


Growing

by Amali



Series: Regenerating [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Female Bilbo, M/M, Nothing explicit, but probably triggering, dwarf politics, dwarf religion, mentions of past rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amali/pseuds/Amali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year has passed since the Battle of Five Armies, and the King and Queen under the Mountain have been rebuilding their kingdom and welcoming their people back home. But danger lurks beneath the tranquil life in the Court of Durin, and Bella will need the support of the Company and a few new allies to keep her family safe.</p><p>Note on Major Character Death Tag: This story will be going through to the War of the Ring and the Quest. Any deaths will occur during the war, and there will be a warning on specific chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, the sequel! I hope you enjoy the story of Bella and Thorin exploring life as a married couple and as politicians, facing the growing darkness of Middle Earth.

_In this year 2942 we have seen our kingdom grow strong. Thorin and Bella rule wisely and with great support among the common dwarves as they see their lives improve. Bella in particular is noted for her generosity, a trait unknown among our previous monarchs. Relationships with Dale have improved immensely, in no small part to our hobbit leader. The same could not be said for our ties to the elves. Even now we dare not cross the border into Mirkwood, for there is no surety of safety for any dwarf therein. Rivendell has cautiously offered the hand of friendship but their distance from us precludes any meaningful exchange, though their use as an intermediary has proved useful in the past months. Despite our Queen's best efforts we are still reliant on trade for food and many grumble at the fact, and conveniently forget Erebor was never fully self-sufficient even at the height of our power. And thus we step into a new year this autumn day and look to the future with optimism._  
  
Balin, son of Fundin

Balin set his pen aside with a feeling of a job well done. All he had written was true, though not the full truth. He would not mention the three assassination attempts, two by knife and one by poison, until the true hand behind them had been found. Nor would he mention the Queen's pregnancy until the babe and mother were safe. Still, compared to a year ago, Erebor and her children prospered. The mines had finally been declared ready by Bofur, and new wealth was being created a day at a time. Tonight there would be a feast to remember those who had fallen in the Battle of Five Armies, and the day after another in Dale. At Bella's gentle insistence, the elves of Mirkwood had been invited and they would be at the Mountain tomorrow to meet with Thorin to discuss trade.

That the Queen was expecting a child, announced barely two months after the wedding, had done much to endear her to her subjects and Balin felt himself growing prouder every day of his adopted daughter. She was an astonishing diplomat, through years of protecting herself from her greedy relatives, and a fierce defender of her husband. She had smelled the poison in the wine, and though the culprit had not been apprehended, Thorin was still alive and Balin could not ask for anything more. As he put the chronicle back on the shelf, someone knocked and stuck their head inside before waiting for permission, and the old warrior was not surprised to see Ori carrying a small pile of books. “Hello, lad. Found them?”

“All the books on politics between dwarf nations. I had to rebind half of them and fill in some of the pages that had tattered.” Ori set them down proudly.

“I know you did fine work. The parchment maker in Dale has improved his stock, I see.”

“Dori did the leatherwork for me. He remembers all the old patterns I'm still trying to learn.” Balin cracked the top tome and breathed in the mingled leather and ink scent greedily, letting his fingers trace the whorls that created an oak tree spreading its branches over Bella's lavender motif, marveling at the details Dori had placed in effortlessly. Ori had overlaid the leather with a frame of silver, with Durin’s emblem repeating along the edges and Bella’s personal sigil at the corners. 

“Her Highness will be most grateful, Ori. I am pleased to see the first new books in Erebor more than match anything produced before.” Ori left with a proud smile and Balin stood with a groan, his knee protesting against the cold air of his office, for all that he wore thick breeches under his formal court robes. His injuries from the battle had been very minor compared to the King's, but he felt his years more and more. In the hall, two guards snapped to attention and flanked him as the second most powerful dwarf in Erebor made his way towards the Royal Wing. The route took him through the reconstructed throne room, empty now, the Arkenstone shining in the dim light. He paused a moment to admire the duel throne Thorin had carved from the old, the Heart of the Mountain encased in a new setting of the King’s sigil surrounded by the Queen’s, both inset with gold. No other of Durin’s line had done more to demonstrate his devotion to his wife, and while part of Balin could not be happier to see Bella honored, he knew many resented the changes she had brought to Erebor, and the throne was an easy symbol to rail against. Still, when asked his opinion of the matter he had given nothing but encouragement, for the happiness of his child meant more to him than anything. And if he needed to be a living shield for her, he would be proud to stand by her side once more in battle.

 

Bella glanced up from her sewing as Balin knocked at the open door to her chambers, her serious face splitting into a pleased smile, hand going to her swollen belly. As always, Balin found his eyes flickering to the faint scars on her neck, seeing how close his daughter and Queen had come to death for her kin and forced the smile back to his face to greet her.  “Balin! What brings you here?”

“The pleasure of seeing you.” Predictably, she flushed even as she stood awkwardly and walked carefully across the dark blue rug the weavers of Erebor had presented her, golden leaves spreading out in spirals under her feet. Balin enfolded her in a brief hug and kissed her forehead. 

“I can see that suspicious bundle under your arm, _adadel_. Something nice?”

“I think so.” Balin presented the books, pulling away the scrap of cloth and watched his Queen's face grow as bright as the sun. She clapped her hands and tried to jump, putting her hands to her abdomen with a startled exclamation. 

“He kicked me! Oh, Balin, feel!” The old dwarf put his hand where hers had been and smiled when he felt the movement. 

“A strong babe for certain. What says Óin?”

“Two more months, hopefully no longer. It grows too hot for pregnancy.” She sank to her armchair, as close a replica to her old one as Thorin had been able to describe, and cradled the books to her chest. “Thank you. Did Ori do this?”

“As fine a job as I have seen. Your people regain many old skills.”

“And some new ones.” She ran her hands over the pile of baby clothes with a distant look in her eyes. Balin said nothing, assuming the silence that had made him a warrior and counselor for kings, and stilled his fingers from touching her face. She came back to the present and ran her hands down her knees, laughing too loudly. “Well, I very much look forward to reading these. Thank you.”

“Bella, I know the banquet tomorrow will be demanding and Thorin does not mind your absence…”

“He said I should not worry, since they’ll all be there tomorrow.” Bella looked down at her feet and twisted one of her braids around her finger. “I feel unready at this time, _adadel_. Please pass on my well wishes.” Balin bowed his way out and closed the door behind him, nodding to the Captain of the Queen's Guard, who simply gazed back and said nothing. Dwalin had vouched for Regin, a distant cousin, and Balin trusted the stoic warrior as much as he did anyone, but the Queen and her babe were the only treasure he cared for. Her continued absence, however, was becoming a concern despite her pregnancy; the people worried for her, and many of those whose loyalty was questionable at best used it as another example of an outsider refusing to respect their ways.

 

The dining hall was bustling, but Balin made his way through the throng easily. Dís was standing off to the side of the High Table, her formal cobalt blue robes shimmering in the light of the lanterns, eyes hooded as she stared at her eldest son standing at his uncle's side, formally welcoming their noble guests from Erebor and the Iron Hills. As Balin glided to a halt she began to speak, voice thoughtful. “I was so young, but I watched Thorin stand where Fili is now. I watched my brother's shoulders grow stooped and his smiles grow dim.”

“He had a King crazed with gold lust.”

“And a kingdom rich and powerful. Look at us, Balin. We wear the same robe every day, and are pleased if a new sash is acquired.”

“Princess, this is beneath you.” Balin folded his hands inside his sleeves and stared straight ahead. In the year of their return from exile, he had never seen Dís like this, and all he could do in front of the Court was snap her out of it as gently as possible. “Your people sleep beneath solid stone and drink clean water. They have warm clothes and their children no longer cry themselves to sleep from hunger. How dare you worry about a robe at this time!” His voice hissed from between his teeth, jaw locked in anger. Dís' head swung around in shock but her training held and she stared ahead once more, her mouth set. 

“I simply tell you what I hear. If I do not wish to disclose their names, it is for my own reasons. But our people have short memories sometimes.” Balin felt his shoulders slump and hastily firmed them, mimicking Dís’ strong stance.

“I know.”

“They have grown used to having a home again. And they have to look at the same robe every day while the Queen appears in a new dress every time she sits in on audiences.”

“They have turned against her so soon? She carries a heir of Durin!” Balin cast his eyes to Narvi, and saw the angry set of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. Inspiration struck as Kíli walked unsteadily to his brother and uncle, hand casually set on the handle of his dagger. “Have your sons see to him.”

“You think they are ready?”

“I think they would take any aspirations cast against their aunt and savior as a slight against themselves and do their duty. They did not lay down arms simply because we no longer fight.”

“A good suggestion.” Dís smiled as the receiving line ended and Thorin cast his gaze to them, eyes looking beyond them for a moment, scanning the room. Balin sighed. He could see Thorin missed Bella when he had to eat with the kingdom alone. Once the child was born Balin was sure she would rejoin them more frequently, and as he walked toward Thorin at the High Table he glanced out at the multitude of tables filling the Great Hall and couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, astonished at the change a mere year had brought. This room had been nearly destroyed and filled halfway to the vaulted ceiling with rubble, and here they sat as a kingdom united.

“Balin, rarely have I seen that smile.” Thorin poured water for the gathered heroes of Erebor, holding up his goblet to salute his people, when he froze. Balin turned his head and saw Bella in the huge doorway, her crown in the torchlight a halo around the glow of her face. She wore a silk dress of emerald green embroidered with lavender buds along the hem, her sash a shout of vivid red across her chest. Without a word being said, the entire kingdom rose to their feet, the common dwarves close to her whispering her name as she walked by, flanked by Regin and another guard. She stopped to ask after their families and crafts, remembering everyone’s name who called hers. Balin realized his jaw was unhinged as the Queen knelt to one knee to allow a small child, from a mining clan in the Iron Hills by his dress, to touch her belly, the gentle smile on her face the incarnation of Yavanna as she glanced up at the High Table. Thorin tried to swallow, his hand on the table trembling as his gaze never left his approaching wife. “Dwalin…tell me what I see is real.”

“She is real, my King.” The Captain’s voice was low and full of awed respect. “Go to her.” Thorin stumbled forward two steps before righting himself and striding confidently along the main aisle, meeting Bella as she neared the steps. He clasped her hands in his, bringing one to his lips, whispering something that brought a delicate flush to her cheeks as her husband tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her to the table. It brought back memories of the first time Balin had seen them arm in arm, a bruised and battered Thorin with the same protective stance and look in his eye then as now. Narvi turned and sat before the royal couple had assumed their seats, and Balin snarled deep in his chest before turning to see to his daughter.

“This is a surprise, wife.”

“You can thank Ori.” She smiled down the table at the suddenly nervous scribe. “His gifts included a book on traditions of the old Court of Durin. Why did you not say that my absence was giving credence to the rumors swirling about me?” Her voice became a blade, slicing through the happy chatter between the others as Thorin winced and cast his eyes to his plate before answering. Balin waited to see how his King would respond, and hoped they would not argue here where Narvi might turn any indication of anger on Thorin’s face into deadly weapons against Bella.

“You are heavy with my child, _ghivashel_ , and I know how your body hurts you now. To demand you force yourself into uncomfortable clothes and to sit in the heat seemed unreasonable.”

“But it was hurting us both in other ways.” Thorin raised his eyes to her and took her hand, putting a hand to her cheek before nodding.

“Yes. But I have enough strength to protect you.”

“I have enough to bear some discomfort.” She held herself rigid and suddenly switched to Khuzdul, her accent pronounced but her words clear. “Why not trust this weapon’s blade next to yours?” Balin nearly stood, pride overwhelming him. Thorin blinked rapidly and responded in the same tongue, while Dís stared at her sister and Fíli beamed openly.

“Because it is the one most precious to me.” Thorin’s smile came slowly, his eyes searching her face. “But it is the one whose strength I never doubt.”

“Oh, Eru’s blessed eyes.” Kíli grumbled too loudly and broke the spell of silence that had befallen the rest. Dís was too slow to reach her son, since both Bofur and Bifur had reacted to the Prince before her, both delivering a resounding smack to his head, but she gave Kíli a scowl before settling in her seat.

Kíli glanced at Bella, worried, but the pleased smile she gave him brought his head up again as Dís sighed. “Well said, sister. I apologize for my son’s outburst.”

Bifur chuckled and raised his goblet to Dís and then Bella. That they could converse now had brought them close and Balin knew Bella adored the wounded fighter. “You timed your entrance well, sister mine. I think you just wanted all admirers to yourself for a moment.” She responded in Khuzdul again, stumbling over a few of her words, but tonight they dined with friends and no one laughed.

“Truly, Bifur, you hurt me.” She giggled as Thorin fed her a forkful of spiced ham, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t recall you be so rude last lesson.”

“Being, my treasure, not be.” Thorin caught her chin in his hand and kissed her deeply. “But continue with your lessons and you will be able to lead the next memorial.”

“As you say.” She switched back to their shared tongue, her hand resting on her belly again. Balin watched the King and Queen feed the other, both laughing quietly at what the other said. But he felt an itch on his shoulders and glanced back to see Narvi looking at the High Table, eyes burning. Balin touched Dís on the shoulder.

“Talk to your sons after tomorrow’s festivities. Now that the mines are open, his influence is reduced and we’ll have more leverage, especially with Dain arriving for the negotiations.”

“I wish I shared your confidence that this is the best course of action.”

“Face forward, Dís.” Balin whispered as Thorin stood and began his speech, thanking all for gathering to honor those who had fought against the Orcs, and for agreeing to share the celebration with their allies the next night. Narvi’s sneer grew noticeably at Thorin’s last words and Balin hid his smile in his drink. The noble’s long brown beard and elaborate braids did not hide his expressions as much as he thought they did. Staunch traditionalist that he was, some of Narvi’s antagonism towards Bella was understandable if annoying, but there was a fixation on the tiny Queen that seemed beyond what could be rationally explained. The feast was short; there was no more food than normal, though Thorin ordered the distribution of the beer he had managed to trade for as a surprise, and as the King and Queen left, they were toasted and cheered by their subjects. Balin watched them disappear, his eyes watching the nobles who turned before they should have, and left for his own bed. Tomorrow, the elves would arrive, and he had much to do. But he spared a thought to Mahal to protect his family as he entered his sparse bedroom, noting the crack in his wall had spread since the last time he had looked at it. Such was life in reclaimed Erebor. A shame that many could not see that though there were cracks, and difficulties, they were back in their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adadel - father of fathers


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mirkwood delegation has arrived to discuss trade, and Bella reflects on the politics of power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You lovely readers are simply wonderful. Thank you for the encouragement and thoughtful notes!

Something was tickling her. Bella swam towards the surface and cracked an eye open to see her husband looking down at her, running his fingers down her cheek and whispering her name. “Wake up, _ghivashel_.”

“No.” She grabbed the quilt she had made and tried to burrow underneath, but Thorin knew her tricks now and had pinned all the covers beneath his knees. “Thorin…” Her voice wheedled but her husband simply straddled her hips, planting sloppy kisses up her neck and to her nose while she tried to stifle her giggles.

“We have a long day today.” He grinned down at her, his unbraided hair falling over his face and enclosing them in a private bower. “And I beg your indulgence to try and eat the breakfast I made.”

“You…made?” Bella felt her lips part and she knew she looked far too incredulous as Thorin smirked and bent to kiss her, wrapping his arms under her back and lifting her in his arms. “Thorin, I’m just in my shift!”

“No one else is here.” Her husband was bare-chested and barefoot, his heavy breeches hanging low on his hips. Bella couldn’t help the smoldering glance she gave him as he put her in her chair at their small table and went to the rudimentary kitchen that had been her wedding gift, his shaggy head turning to look out the new row of windows at her slumbering garden. “I never thought I would grow to enjoy seeing plants in the morning.”

“It helps they are in such nice beds.” She gasped as Thorin slid a plate of two scant bacon slices covered with a mound of tiny tomatoes, sliced in half and seared, in front of her. “Where…”

“Bard and Gunna sent them. Mahal, what you’ve done for them over the past year…” Thorin shook his head as he sat across from her, resting his chin on his hand and watching her as she started to eat. “When you told me you had given away your home I never imagined what you would bring to mine, _ghivashel_.” He reached out and caught her chin, and Bella closed her eyes as his rough fingers stroked her lips, moaning at the loss of his warmth when he pulled away. “Eat, my lavender lass. For if you continue to look at me with such eyes I am afraid I will not let you leave, and Erebor needs us both today.”

“You think you could hold me?” She tried to hide her trembling fingers by popping one of the tomatoes into her mouth, the sweetness of the grilled exterior countered by the tart meat inside. She moaned again and Thorin’s fork nearly missed his mouth.

“I should remember what noises you make when you eat those and be sparing in their delivery.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bella crunched into the bacon, smiling at Thorin’s serious expression. The meat rationing would be ending soon, if her inspection of the pig and cattle herds held true. They should have a good year of yearlings next summer and leave enough of a breeding herd to continue feeding so many mouths. “Else I would think of ways to make you give them to me.” Thorin looked down at his plate and she watched his throat spasm before he looked up at her with such desire in his eyes the Queen under the Mountain nearly leapt over the table to answer his with her own. But the babe stirred and she glanced down, letting her hand rest where he most often kicked her.

“How is my babe this morn?”

“Hungry, apparently. He likes his ‘ _adad_ ’s cooking, I think.” Thorin drew himself straighter, his smile smug.

“Then do not let me stop him from eating.” That their first-born would be male was all but fact; evidently the Line of Durin had never had a female as first born, but Bella had made all her baby clothes in the hobbit’s style, which didn’t differentiate between genders until the child could walk. A sudden thought hit her.

“Will I need to find him shoes? Do you think his feet will be more like mine or yours?”

“Boots are simple to make, my Queen.” Thorin laughed as he drained his dark tea and Bella sipped at the herbal blend Óin had prepared for her pregnancy, wishing she could have even a small dollop of honey to soften the bitterness. “Either way he will be ours and who will care if he walks barefoot?”

“Narvi will for one, and his ilk.”

“Speak not of him today. I have a chance to lessen his hold over us when I talk to Dain and I hope my cousin is amendable.” Thorin made a curt gesture with his hand, face settling into a grim smile.

“Will you bring up your thoughts on his betrayal?”

“I will not. Dain would demand proof. He lost his father to that monster and the thought that any dwarf might deal with our ancient enemy is not one he entertains.” Thorin shoved back from the table and paced to the window, leaning his arms on the sill as the dawn crashed over them and lit the small oak sapling into a living torch. Bella grunted as she stood and placed her hand on his arm, allowing Thorin to draw her to his bare chest and press his lips to her hair.

“I am sure we will find it. Come and wash my hair for me?” As always, such thoughts distracted Thorin from his brooding and he hurried her to their new bathing chamber, hands carding through her curls, dark thoughts banished for a time.

 

Bella entered the throne room on Thorin's arm, her newest dress already feeling tight on her skin. It was a marvel of fabric craft and she wished she could appreciate it more; the seamstresses had labored for weeks to give their Queen a dress that mimicked her old Shire dresses while giving it the flavor of the formal robes that her dwarves wore. The outer, sleeveless robe was of deepest emerald green, with her sigil embroidered in a delicate overlay, the under dress a brighter green and belted with a golden sash, hung with Sting and tied to emphasize her large belly. Her sleeves were of the softest white linen, covering her hands in a froth of lace and drawing attention to the three emerald rings Thorin had made her, and hiding a small arm dagger she could drop into her palm if her guards fell to an attack. The small weapon felt heavy and Bella moved her arm irritably; that she had to worry about such things made her angry, but Thorin’s arm on hers reminded her why some discomfort could be born.

 Still, Bella mused as she put her foot on the first steps of the dais, she often missed the simple days on the road with the Company, when she could wear her breeches and smoke without worrying about what others might think, and of the first exhilarating days of Thorin’s eventual courtship and proposal. The clench of her heart when he drew near had never ceased, but it was an expected response now, not the wild fluttering of a heart long caged, frantic and eager. Her crown was pinching her head and her braids felt too tight, and were it not for the cold air of the Mountain she would be dripping with sweat. Today not a one of the nobles cast a covetous or jealous gaze at her dress. Today she was as much a symbol as the Arkenstone or the crown on Thorin's head, a figure of fertility and power to remind the elves that they no longer dealt with exiled or besieged dwarves. She did not mind such implications today. She had suffered as Thranduil's unknown guest and if this was the best revenge she could take, she would willingly deck herself in jewels from Thorin's hands and forgo her flowers. Thorin leaned his mouth down to her ear as they surmounted the dais and faced their subjects. “You are beautiful today, _ghivashel_. Thank you for being at my side.”

Bella glanced up into her husband's stormy eyes and had to restrain herself from brushing his braids back from his face. “I will always be here, _khurdu_.” As usual, his nostrils flared with desire as she spoke Khuzdul, and he pressed his fingers to her cheek briefly before turning to face the entrance, taking his throne with a grace she strived to emulate. Bella sank to her throne and arranged her skirts to hide her feet, letting her fingers brush over the amethyst brooch set with emeralds and carved with two boar's heads, their green teeth shimmering in the Arkenstone's radiance. The Heart of the Mountain sat between their two thrones, and she watched the eyes of the nobles drift over the stone, avoiding her stern gaze. Narvi in particular seemed on edge and she wanted to walk up to him, grab his beard and demand to know what his problems with her were. But she wouldn't endanger her family, so she put her hand on her belly and took deep breaths as Dwalin entered and nodded to Thorin. They were here, then.

 Thorin grabbed her hand and held on as Thranduil and his son Legolas swept into the throne room, followed by a cadre of well-armed guards and several elves Bella recognized from the feasts she had spied on while trapped. She tensed as the King's cold eyes met hers. She didn't need Balin to tell her that the elves of Mirkwood blamed her for the current state of affairs between the elves and the dwarves. Legolas' face was smooth, his eyes soft, but she felt exposed and jerked her eyes away. There were no bows exchanged, and the elves were tall enough to stare the King and Queen under the Mountain in the eye. There was a long moment of awkward silence. Bella felt Thorin's hand tightening on hers and heard his breathing changing. And Thranduil's stance was overly aggressive. She rose quickly, pulling her hand from her husband’s, a fake smile plastered on her face, and trilled in her speaking to the Sackville-Baggins voice, “Your Majesty, Your Highness. Erebor welcomes you to her halls. We look always to the west for the hand of friendship.” She took a deep breath as her husband snorted and the elves glanced at each other. She knew they were astonished to see the dwarves they had once held prisoner clad in silk and velvet, covered in the finest of jewels and precious metals. Finally Thranduil bowed his head slightly. 

“And we to the east, your Highness.” Bella tensed at the insult, upset she had left him the opening, but Thorin was at her side in an instant, his deep voice filling her senses.

“Then perhaps we should retire to more private chambers to discuss these matters of friendship while our people mingle?” Thorin took her hand openly, and she did not need to turn her head to know his other hand rested on Orcrist. Bella felt her tension bleeding away as his scent filled her world, warm earth and burned leather competing with the other for her attention. Thranduil pretended to consider the suggestion for a moment then nodded his head. 

“Lead on, your Majesty.” Dwalin had been prepared for this and the Royal Guard cleared a path to the only renovated antechamber, checking the room before posting two guards on the outside of the door. The elves did the same, eyeing their counterparts from behind their elaborate helms, hands close to weapons. Bella, always sensitive to the mood of a room, had to release her breath after spots swam in front of her eyes. Four elegant chairs, identical but for their size, sat around a low chest with a beaten silver tray holding tea and wine. Bella poured Thranduil and Thorin wine and Legolas and herself tea after smelling both, filling the silence with inconsequential chatter about the progress of the Mountain and news that Lord Elrond had passed on in his letters to her. Finally everyone was settled and Bella sank back in her chair, heart pounding in her ears. Thranduil turned to her and bowed his head just enough to show he had moved, eyes still cold. “Congratulations, Highness. A couple's first child is always a gift beyond imagining.”

“The gifts you sent were beyond generous.” Bella smiled, not trying to hide her amusement at the gifts the elves thought appropriate for a babe. The blankets were a kind thought and of high quality, but the toys had been made of heavy wood and were far too large for a hobbit or dwarf babe. Bifur had laughed himself breathless when he had seen them, and had promised to make something much better for the child.

“I recall my own children's early years with fondness.” Thorin stepped in and began discussing the food shortages, while Legolas and Bella sat quietly and kept their faces blank. It was painfully boring, but more important than any meetings the Thain or Master had presided over, so Bella kept a running list of the figures being discussed in her head and sipped at her tea. The elves wanted what the dwarves had in their mines, for their own craftsmen and traders, but the dwarves needed the food more, and Thorin had to hold firm against several of Thranduil’s more outrageous suggestions. Nearly an hour passed before a delicate agreement was reached, providing the dwarves with more grain the elves had access to through their own trading channels, in exchange for labor and gold to be discussed at a later date. Bella slumped into Thorin after Thranduil and his son retired, letting his strength hold her for a moment before going to the desk in the corner and writing everything down before she forgot as Thorin cradled her, his nose resting in her braids and his hands cupping her belly. 

“You did very well, _ghivashel_. I could not have insulted him so subtly.” Bella giggled as she finished, sanding the page and reaching for the blotting paper. 

“Why, thank you. Though he used it against you.”

“As I knew he would. It matters not. I look forward to sitting at your side again tonight.” His hands tightened on her and then he stepped back, preparing to face the Court. “Are you going to Dale now?”

“I said I would tour the Palace gardens before the feast. Glóin and Bifur are going with me.”

“Good. Please wear your mail?” She could not fit into the mithril shirt she still so dearly loved, but Thorin had fashioned one similar that would fit under her dress and turn a knife or arrow.

“If you promise to wear yours tonight.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his chin, the short bristles soft on her lips. He had decided to keep it short as a reminder of what the Longbeards had lost, despite the occasional jab from Dain and various nobles, and Bella liked to let him know she thought he was perfect no matter the length of his beard. He groaned, letting her push him back into one of the chairs, keeping his hands at his side. The Queen knew how difficult it was for her husband to surrender himself to her control and appreciated his selflessness as she let her lips travel down his neck.

“Wife…” he muttered a word she didn’t know yet and she punished him by dragging her fingers over his throat as softly as she could, watching him writhe under her, his hands gripping the side of the chair so hard it creaked alarmingly. She followed her fingers with her lips, reaching out to tug on his hair gently as she bit the hollow of his neck. A loud crack made her jump, and staring at the armrests broken in Thorin’s large hands she started to laugh hysterically. Thorin slumped back, letting the wood fall to the floor, and joined in her laugher while shaking his head. Bella stepped forward again, burying her head in his shoulder.

“My sweet dwarf. Can it truly be so difficult to let go for a moment?”

“You see the results, my Bella.” He cupped her chin and kissed her. “I can feel Dwalin outside trying not to pound on the door. Remember your mail!” He stood and she straightened his crown before he left. Regin was in the room in an instant, searching each corner before bowing.

“The Lords Glóin and Bifur are waiting, my Queen.”

“I must to my rooms first, Captain.” Regin never questioned her directives and Bella mused at how much her life had changed. No one in the Shire had ever simply nodded at her words and leapt to help her, though Regin very properly never touched her, simply held the door and whistled her escort into formation. Bifur and Glóin stood down the corridor, both resplendent in their robes and armor, Glóin’s beard glittering with the weight of his mithril beads and Bifur’s boar spear nearly blinding in the light of the lanterns.

“Bella, tell Bifur that my axe could easily do anything his pig sticker could.” Bella laughed as her brothers fell in beside her, all the dwarves taking care to slow their pace to her barely dignified waddle. She hadn’t seen her feet in months! In her room, she realized belatedly that without Thorin to help her into her mail she would have to summon someone, for none present would ever dream of putting his hands on her in such a way even if ordered. She sighed and sank onto the edge of the bed. There were no servants as men or elves or even hobbits would understand the term, for every dwarf had a craft and were expected to look after themselves, or offer help freely to those who might need it. A knock at the doorframe brought her head up sharply; who would dare? Dís stood with a smile on her face, arms crossed over her robes and sash of white.

“Sister! Oh, thank Mahal.”

“A good morning to you. How were the elves?”

“Subtly insulting, as always, but they refrained from commenting about thieving so on their best behavior.” Dís grinned, tugging on her beard queue, clasped with a simple sapphire.

“I heard you go to tour the Palace. May I come with you?”

“Of course! Can you help me with my mail?” Dís went to the multiple armor stands, letting her fingers touch the mithril coat for a moment.

“I am so glad you wear this, not some stripling of an elf.”

“I will be grateful when it fits once more.” Bella shrugged out of the two layers of her dress, leaving her white tunic on as padding. Dís easily lifted the mail over her sister’s head and helped retie the outer layers of the formal dress deftly.

“Such beauty of construction. But I saw the clothes you finished out on the table. Your work could bring you into the weaver’s guild easily, for they value the seamstresses highly.”

“From the stories you have told me of disputes between the crafts I think it would be best if the Queen stayed above the fray. Thorin does not belong to the smiths, and none would say he is an inferior worker of metal.” And for a moment, Bella wished Narvi would call her husband out with such an insult, but knew it for fantasy as she dropped her hands to her belt, fingers teasing out the simple gold band tied in a leather pouch.

“Truth. And I myself find the squabbles tedious. But he does go work with them sometimes.”

“Ah.” Bella nodded as she replaced her crown, making sure her braids had not come loose. Thorin had woven multiple braids back from her face and down her head, letting them cascade down her back freely over her loose curls. “Perhaps once the babe has arrived there would be those who might like to make him an outfit?”

“I can think of nothing more to honor them.” Dís chuckled. “My mother did the same, in fact. We were all dressed by the greatest craftsmen and had the audacity to whine.” They walked into the main room and found Bifur and Glóin waiting while the guards stood in the outer corridor. Dís’ personal guards stood with them, and it was a ferocious group that left the gates of Erebor to ride down the causeway, the River Running leading them into the perfect autumn day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'adad - Father


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long anticipated feast brings conflict to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gloin became very prominent, as a father and husband, and wanted to do his thing in this chapter. He is not interested in gardens. But he very much approves of drinking games.

“Cousin, stop your pony from being so…”

“Perfect? Amazingly strong? Oh. Perhaps you are referring to how she outpaces your mount despite your best efforts?” Dís shot Glóin a frosty glare and turned to face Dale as Bella laughed into her hand, and Bifur cast his eyes to the sky. Glóin chuckled and gently slowed his pony, who tossed her head but obeyed. Bella glanced back and smiled before turning onto the new road to Dale. Roadwork was one of the most simple engineering challenges and cut across the landscape in an undulating line that conformed to the landscape perfectly. Dale, though still obviously a ruin, shone in the kind sun, the new stone against the charred creating a dizzying patchwork at this distance.

Thorin had offered to replace all the stone, but Bard had demurred. The charred ruins had withstood the worst, and would be a constant reminder to the Men of Dale that their city would always rise from the ashes. The gates were open and decorated with greenery, the festivities already spilling into the squares and markets to judge by the discordant music on the edge of hearing. Bella glanced back again, teeth biting at her lip, for a moment her worry showing in her wide eyes and clenched jaw. Her capture, though brief, had made her wary of entering Dale and Glóin touched his hand to his axe, nodding to her as she took a deep breath and returned it.

 Glóin remembered how small and scared Bella had looked the first time the Company had stood on this road, her and Thorin’s hands clasped tightly as they sat on their ponies next to the other looking up at Erebor. Many in the Company had been blindsided by their burglar and rescuer asking their king to share in _sanzarira_ , but Glóin had known Thorin’s heart lost in Rivendell, long before the others would have even considered an attraction between the unlikely pair. But when Thorin had argued with Dwalin over going to bring Bella to rejoin them, the king’s face had softened when he said her name, his hand going to the golden chain around his neck. The look had been gone in a moment, and rarely repeated in the weeks in the Misty Mountains, but it had been enough.

The warrior had seen the same look on his Suthri’s face, a month after sharing a forge in the Blue Mountains. She had been a lowborn smith, he cousin to the prince and among the richest dwarves in exile. And yet, as the hammers rang and the metal lived around them, they had grown into one soul in two bodies. Shaking his head, Glóin brought himself back to the present as the group neared the gates of Dale. Bella rode well for one in her condition, better than she had the first days on the road with them, and she led the column easily, flanked by Dís to her right and Bifur to her left, while Glóin rode behind her. Any arrow sent her way would most likely strike him first, but he was honored to guard her.

There was an escort waiting for them, the Men’s faces hidden behind their helms, their pikes slanted over their shoulders in precise lines. Glóin had seen what those pikes could do to armor and flesh both. But today they were adorned with ribbons and flowers, and at their head stood Gunna, wife to Bard. She wore a plain dress of yellow, her hair loose, but as Bella dismounted with aid from Dís, the human female’s stark elegance against the dwarves’ robes raised Glóin’s estimation of her. She knew she could not compete against the riches of Erebor and did not try to. Gunna curtsied low, but Bella waved her upright and accepted the bouquet of large yellow flowers from her counterpart with a pleased smile. “Your Highness, Princess, my Lords, Dale is pleased you consented to see what progress we have made. Your advice has been invaluable these last months, Highness.”

“I am pleased that Dale was prepared to listen to my words, Highness.” Bella flinched as a flock of young stable hands appeared to take the ponies, Bifur moving to stand between her and the humans as quick as thought as the bodyguards created a larger ring around the royal party. Gunna turned to lead them into Dale, turning the talk to pregnancy and childbirth. Glóin did not move his hand from his axe, and Bifur’s hands on his spear were white. Even Dís, who had not seen Bella knelt and weeping while bound at Thranduil’s feet, kept a hand to her sword. There was still a lingering wariness between the two kingdoms, despite the official state of friendliness, and even Gunna looked at the dwarves warily from time to time. As they approached the palace, cheers broke out from the half completed houses that circled the square. Gunna and Bella nodded their heads back and forth, smiling, while the rest of their entourages kept eyes out on possible areas of attack. Children rushed forward with various flowers for the Queens, and Bella seemed to grow in front of Glóin’s eyes as she bestowed kisses and hugs to her tiny admirers. The gates to the palace creaked open and Glóin decided he would see if he might offer to repair them; such a sound had never failed to make him wince. Dís sucked in her breath as she walked up the steps and Bella snorted softly.

“Calm down, you two. We’ve offered gate smiths and Bard says there are more pressing things to deal with first, like getting his people under permanent roofs.” But her voice was fond and Dís and Glóin exchanged rueful glances as they walked through the courtyard, skirting the outbuildings and entering the formal gardens. But instead of the tortured hedges and trees Glóin had heard described by Balin and Thorin, there was a gentle wildness to the undulating paths, and Dís gasped.

“You’ve turned it into a vegetable garden. Oh, Bella. I had no idea.”

“Half our people got some sort of food from here this last harvest.” Gunna bent her head as Bella flushed slightly.

“There’s some flowers too, but vegetables can be beautiful as well.” Glóin and Bifur exchanged long suffering glances. Bifur stepped closer, dropping his voice.

“When she said tour the gardens I thought we’d step outside, nod our heads, go back inside to start the drinking.”

“Aye, me too.” Glóin chuckled as Dís fixed them both with a glare. Regin stayed close to Bella, but the rest of the guards formed a large circle to give the royal party more privacy as Gunna showed Bella how the gardeners were following her instructions. Many of the plants were cut back or under burlap for the fast approaching snow, but as the tour dragged on Glóin realized Bella was a master of many crafts to have created this from ruins, and had an understanding of more. Dís put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and drew her close for a moment.

“No wonder you were so tired most nights. My sad attempts at growing things could never come close to this.”

“Did you want to see how the orchards were prepared, Bella?” Gunna paused at a gate but Bella shook her head.

“I saw them last week. I know your people are working hard, Gunna. How are the compost heaps coming along? Are the kitchens providing the scraps?”

“They’re quite large.” The Queen of Dale wrinkled her nose slightly. “And rather unsightly, Bella.”

“So are many important things. I’d like to see how you’re storing them.” Glóin grinned into his beard as Gunna faltered and then led them around the back of the gardens, pushing open a small gate. Here, Bella’s influence was clear; the sheds had a certain hobbit look to them that made them distinct from Dale, and Bella relaxed as she looked over the compost heaps held in stone pens, each in a different state of decomposition. Glóin coughed, but compared to how parts of Erebor still smelled it was not terrible. Bella nodded in satisfaction. “Next harvest should enable you to reduce trade, if everything goes to plan.”

“And how are your gardens doing, Bella?” Gunna led them back towards the palace quickly, to Glóin’s relief. He could hear the music and singing, and as with dwarves, men liked to have drink close on hand for those activities.

“They are small, by necessity. But I could not ask for better light on the ledges and the irrigation is as easy as thought. My people are skilled with water as well as stone.” Bella shot Glóin a smile. He had helped lay in her watering system, in return for a pie, a very fair trade in his estimation. Even Bombur could not beat the Queen when it came to baking, and flour was scarce enough to make each pie a treasure equal to its weight in gold. “I have hope by the time my child can walk they’ll have many gardens to play in on the Mountain.” Dís helped Bella on the steps as the doors to the palace swung open, and the festivities rushed to greet them.

 

Glóin sat easy in the Great Hall, mug of ale at his elbow and a piece of bread and cheese keeping him from inebriation on his plate. He watched Bard and Gunna speak to Bella and Dís at the High Table, the shorter beings on taller chairs to help equal out their heights. He liked Dale. As a city of Men dependent on trade with dwarves, even dwarves they might not trust, they had long ago gotten used to life with beings half their height and had made accommodations not to be found anywhere else. Bifur sat nearby, sharpening his boar spear and sucking noisily at a roasted turkey’s leg. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

“Children, mostly. No one who is a parent can resist a mother carrying her first child.” Bifur grimaced suddenly and Glóin lowered his eyes, to give his brother in arms time alone. His heart sped at the thought of losing Gimli and Suthri. Bifur took a quavering breath. “I look forward to seeing her babe. Even a boy child will carry some of her hobbit grace.”

“Don’t dare to hope for a daughter.” Gimli laughed. “Suthri made that mistake and was convinced Óin was lying to her.” Bifur chuckled.

“Is that how he gained that bare patch in his beard?” A serving girl brought them more ale, bowing over her tray. Both dwarves shifted uncomfortably until she was gone, trying to ignore her subservient stance and lowered eyes. Glóin cleared his throat and drank some ale.

“When are the others supposed to arrive? As much as I enjoy drinking, I’d rather have a few more around.”

“As they are able. We’ll do the ridiculous introductions even though we all know each other, raise our glasses to the victorious dead, and enjoy what time we have with each other.” Bifur snorted and leaned back, glancing up at the Queen again. Glóin watched the old warrior smile as Bella held herself tall, shaking her head at something Bard was saying, her crown catching the light.

“Well, a few rounds will make the time go faster. Bella and Dís can hold up the honor and glory of Erebor without us for a time.” Bifur snorted but raised his flagon and Glóin laughed as he joined in the toast.

 

“Their Majesties Thorin Oakenshield and Belladonna Baggins of Erebor!” Glóin turned from his family to bow low, noting both monarchs seemed more relaxed now that they were reunited. Thorin bent over Bella for a moment before helping her down the stairs, both of them appropriately serious in memory of the fallen soldiers. At the High Table, they stood next to Bard and Gunna. The herald cleared his throat. “His Majesty Thranduil and Prince Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland Realm!” Glóin bowed again, shortly, and watched the king’s face tighten for a brief moment before he swept down the steps and across the hall to his fellow monarchs, followed by his alert son. They did not sit, but faced their people as humans and elves and dwarves mingled at the tables below. Glóin guided Suthri to the table below the High, letting Gimli find his own seat.

“Tonight we gather together as we did one year ago to face Azog the Defiler and his army. Together we destroyed them. Together, we rid the land of a threat that had haunted us all for years. And together, let us remember our fallen comrades who helped keep us free.” Bard raised his flagon. “Dale is honored to be able to host you all. Special thanks must be paid to Erebor, for providing the material and knowledge to shape the roof overhead, and to the Woodland Realm, for keeping us nourished while the snow flew and our wounds healed. And most gratitude goes to her Highness Belladonna, for making sure Dale will be feeding both Erebor and ourselves in the years to come with her hobbit magic.” Bella bent her head briefly, a smile breaking through her calm as Thorin beamed and bent over his wife, kissing her to the vocal approval of many in the hall. “And I hope you will all join me in thanking her. To Belladonna!” Glóin cheered loudly and downed his ale, Suthri’s enthusiastic whistling making him laugh as he sat and watched the festivities begin. Less than ten minutes after the servers had disappeared, the center of the hall had been cleared of tables by the young and the dwarves whipped out their instruments, piping a fast tune as the humans and dwarves joined in a dance that hadn’t been seen in Dale for nearly two centuries.

Gimli danced by, arm in arm with a lovely human lass who topped him by nearly a foot, both of them laughing. Suthri snorted into her beer. “He asked her because she’s wearing the brightest dress in the room.”

“Lad’s learned his lessons. Bright colors means a bright heart. I seem to recall dancing with a rainbow of dresses while courting you.” Glóin planted a kiss on Suthri’s hand and was pleased to see her flush as she tugged on his beard.

“And do you remember those steps, my husband?” He did not answer her but firmly set her flagon on the table before taking her hands and pulling her into the throng. They danced three dances and went back to their seats, Glóin leaving his breathless wife to get them more beer. As he walked towards the kegs, a gift from Rohan according to Bard, he nearly bumped into an elf and stepped aside, glaring up at the ethereal being until she sniffed and moved aside. If his hands had not been full, they would have been on his axe. As he got closer to the beer, he turned and saw Thranduil looking right at him, face blank but eyes burning until Gunna distracted him.

Glóin let his gaze slide by Thranduil and his son, the lead in his stomach near pulling him to the floor. That Bella had insisted on inviting them had led to many disagreements over late night dinners, but the little Queen had listened to their complaints with a serene grace, waved her hand, and said she had already sent the invitations. Thorin had been reduced to a sputtering mess, barely articulate, when Bella had silenced him with a whisper unheard by the rest. The King had gritted his teeth and accepted his Queen’s actions. And already Erebor benefited, in the form of a new treaty and trade agreement. Suthri appeared and took his hand before he could blink and Glóin smiled, elves forgotten for now. “Was I too long with the beer, my sparkling jewel?”

“Our son is attempting to drink the Princes under the table, Glóin.”

“Good lad! They need the challenge.”

“And the attention.” Suthri rolled her eyes. “They’ve half the Court of dwarves and men gathered around.” Glóin laughed hugely, reaching out his hand for hers and squeezing, allowing her to pull him into a quick kiss and tweak his beard.

“Good for him. He’s some proving to do, at that, and let him try at the table and not the battlefield for some years yet.”

“I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive you, husband.” Suthri led Glóin to a secluded corner and made him sit with her, watching the dance of Court continue around them. Bella’s laugh reached them and they both turned their head to watch Thorin, hand on his wife’s belly, throwing his head back and bellowing a laugh that filled the room. “You made me hold him for two months before I could trust he wouldn’t follow. He’s practically a brother to Fíli and Kíli. He swore the oath.”

“And yet I could not face it. Thorin and the Princes have…he is not their father, for all that he raised them. He brought them up to be _shomakhîth_ , from the day they were born.” Glóin rested his forehead on Suthri’s shoulder. “I have watched my family dwindle, Suthri. And I could not face losing my son.” Suthri pulled on his beard and drew him into a deep kiss, her beard smelling of smoke and ale and the intoxicating scent of her sweat.

“You are a good father, my husband. And your son will understand in time.”

“Perhaps.” Glóin sighed and resettled on the hard bench, scanning the crowd and catching Narvi’s eye. The noble began to weave through the crowd towards the couple, and Glóin knew Suthri was easing her daggers from their hiding places.

“Ah, cousin. I was hoping to speak to you tonight. Lady Suthri, a pleasure. I do not see enough of you.”

“There is so much work to be done. A shame I never see you in the forges.” Narvi flushed at her dig against his lack of a craft, hand dropping to his sword briefly. Glóin smiled and patted his axe.

“Well, cousin, how have you enjoyed the feast? Does it not do your heart good to see a new start to an old relationship, rekindled by the Queen?”

“I believe a few others were involved.”

“Not in the beginning.” Glóin played with one of his beads, glancing over at the throne. “Before you arrived, Narvi, there was the most tenuous of connections held only by Bella’s willingness to meet with Bard and Gunna. The food in our kitchens came from their fields and their traders for months. But I suppose feeding a kingdom is nothing compared to…oh, what was it you did in the Blue Mountains, beside use your money to keep Thorin in line?” Suthri jabbed her elbow in Glóin’s ribs, glancing off his armor with a muffled curse. But Glóin didn’t care. He was tired of watching Bella despair over the stories whispered behind her back. He felt a grin twist his mouth as Narvi paled in anger. “I recall many a hungry winter out on the road, making my way from forge to forge, until times grew better. I’ll admit I was better off than many, but I did try and help. Now, if you’ll forgive me, cousin, my wife is looking particularly desirable at the moment and I think I’m going to take her home.” Glóin swept away, Suthri on his arm ominously silent. They left the feast behind and were in the courtyard, waiting for one of the wagons, before Suthri spoke. She sounded thoughtful but Glóin could hear the anger running under her words.

“I think Bella won’t like what you just did.”

“You forget I swore the oath as well.” Suthri snorted but said nothing, pulling his into a searing kiss that curled his toes inside his boots. When she let him go she was smiling.

“I am not angry with you, my forge. I was ready to gut him. But I know we need his money right now until we can feed ourselves.”

“I wish that was the reason. It’s the influence he has with Dain and others in the end. I have enough money to feed us all for years, my heart, it’s finding willing traders, and Narvi has much influence among them. We’re not in the Blue Mountains anymore.” Glóin pressed his forehead to Suthri’s and sighed. “I never took father’s stories of the Court seriously. Remind me to apologize to Thorin tomorrow.”

“If I let you out of our rooms tomorrow.” Suthri laughed as Glóin swept her off her feet and spun her around, the stars spinning overhead as the music carried them into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili spends some family time with Bella, and finds trying to be guard and nephew a difficult task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews and comments on this story, you're all my inspiration.

Kíli glanced up from his breakfast as his mother pushed his door open, Fíli trailing in her wake, yawning hugely as he tried to straighten his sash. The younger prince rose as Dís came over to him and kissed his forehead. The feast in Dale had gone until the sun had lit the horizon, and the two Princes had been at the heart of the drinking and gambling. Kíli’s knee ached and he wished he could remember why. “Good morning, son.”

“Mother.” Kíli bowed his head and waited for her to sit before sinking back to his chair, shooting his brother a glance that was returned with small grin and shake of Fíli’s golden head. So he didn't know their mother's plan either, which was never a good sign. Dís looked at the food and sniffed. 

“You would eat no vegetables. Didn't Bella grow some peas for you especially?”

“They're gone.” Kíli shrugged. 

“And you won't eat root vegetables why?” Kíli made a face and Fíli laughed until Kíli scrambled amid the detritus to find a wild apple kept on hand for such occasions, the blonde’s face immediately shading green. Dís separated them easily, pushing her sons to their seats with a hand on their head. 

“Enough!” But the smile on her face betrayed her true feelings and Kíli bit into the apple, enjoying the tart flesh as she started to explain Balin's suggestion. After a few minutes of her relentless words, Kíli set the apple down, his stomach souring. Narvi had been unbearable back in the Blue Mountains, for much of his wealth was in the mines in the Iron Hills, and while he had sworn to Thráin and Thorin, he had always made it clear it was at a price of autonomy that would have been unthinkable while the Durins ruled in Erebor.  “Is that clear?”

“Of course, Mother.” Kíli echoed his brother a beat behind, watching her face settle in a grim mask. 

“Then I will see you after the morning meetings. Do not disappoint me, my sons. We have everything to lose now.”

 

Kíli prepared for the confrontation as carefully as he would for battle; mithril coat under his formal robe of dark blue silk, daggers up his sleeves and in his sash of black. More daggers in his boots, and his sword went over his back in the scabbard Dori had crafted for him. A sapphire the size of his fist topped the pommel, and as he surveyed himself in the sheet of polished bronze Kíli found his face locked in a deep frown. He missed his travel clothes and sturdy gear, his bow that was useless for today’s task. The clean attack was his strength, not the subtle dance he was being asked to undertake, but for the sake of his tiny aunt he would do his best. Narvi had been opposed to her from the moment he had discovered her existence, but Bella was a master at maneuvering from a position of weakness and had secured the undying loyalty of the settlers from the Iron Hills as well as the majority of the dwarves from the Blue Mountains.

A frontal attack on the pregnant Queen would be met with pure anger and so Narvi moved in the shadows, planting rumors of infidelity. Knowing what Bella had overcome to reach her current state of confidence filled Kíli with wrath and he stomped out into the corridor to find Fíli lounging against the wall, eyeing one of the guards with no pretense. The heir of Durin had silks of dazzling blue, and his sash of green was a good reminder that he supported the Queen. Kíli's eye was caught by a flash of purple at Fíli’s temple braids and sucked in his breath in astonishment. “Are you sure you ought to be wearing that? Some might give credence to the rumors.”

“Then Mahal take them back to stone.” Fíli growled. That Narvi had insinuated one of the princes might be the babe’s father had nearly earned the noble the invitation to a duel, stopped only by a direct order from Thorin and Bella both. “She is my Queen and my Aunt and if I wore Thorin's colors no one would care. I will support her and if Narvi dare say anything I will call him out.”

“You could take him for truth, but his death might make him a martyr to those who only give him some support now.”

“I think it will show him I disbelieve his words.” Kíli bowed his head in acquiescence.

“Then lead on, Prince.”

 

When they entered the Court, a path opened to the dual throne and the princes walked up to the steps and made their bows, waiting for their King and Queen to acknowledge them before rising and walking off to the side where Narvi was surrounded by his sycophants. Kíli checked that Dwalin was standing in his customary place, his axes gleaming with a sharp edge and his new inkings honoring the victorious dead leaping from his bald head. The year of being home had only added new troubles to the guard’s duties, and the glower he bestowed on any and all who came close to the King and Queen was beyond ferocious. There was something different about him that Kíli wanted to investigate, but Fíli was unstoppable this morning and Kíli could not let his brother near Narvi alone. The gathered nobles had to give way to the princes, but Kíli felt his shoulder blades itching under his armor as he gave Narvi a brief nod. Hopefully Dwalin still remembered the old hunting whistles. “A good morning to you, Narvi.” 

Fíli bared his teeth in a smile and let his hand fall to one of his sword's hilt, caressing the large emerald. He tossed his hair back over his shoulder, allowing the amethyst bead to catch the light. Kíli was watching carefully and hid his grin as the older dwarf's eyes widened. “I heard that Dain and Thorin had been locked in conference for hours yesterday, and they continue this morn after the audience. Have you any knowledge of what our cousin might want?”

“None, my Prince.”

“Truly? I find that hard to believe, given your extensive interests in the Iron Hills. Some say Dain rarely makes a decision without you, though I'm sure my cousin would dispute such a charge.” Kíli blinked. This was not what their mother had counseled. But Narvi reeled slightly, a crack in his armor exposed, and Kíli stepped in with his own attack. 

“After all, he sheltered many of our people, and while they have returned, many have lingering loyalty. Surely they look for a unifying voice.” And had found one in Bella, for the most part. “And you helped provide for them for many years through your mines.”

“I did, but now I am a citizen of Erebor once more, Prince.”

“I’m sure we never stopped being loyal to the throne of Erebor even in exile.”

“And I am tired of hearing this tune from you and your companions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the Lord Glóin threw such baseless accusations in my face just last night. You two would not be alive if I had not chosen to stay with your grandfather.” Narvi drew himself up and stared down at Fíli, who held himself still for a long moment before leaning forward, teeth bared.

“If I am able to trace one thing said against her, you toothless old dog, I will cut your beard myself.” Kíli felt his stomach go cold and sweat trickled down his back as his brother continued. “I will not dance around you like my uncle and mother have, Narvi son of Nar. I will not. I was born in exile, raised in poverty, and I know more dirty tricks than you’ve ever had nightmares about. Insinuate she violates their wedding oaths with me one more time, say that she is unworthy of knowing our ways, and I will not stop with your beard.” Narvi stepped back, his hand going to his sword, and Kíli eased his smaller dagger free.

“Leave it. Both of you.” He grabbed his brother’s elbow and felt the tremors shaking Fíli as his eyes remained locked with the older dwarf’s. “Bella is Queen, Narvi. Without her you would not stand here now, and for all that you resent your loss of power I know you missed your home. Leave her alone.” Kíli adjusted his grip and started to drag Fíli back, one step at a time, not turning his back until several bodies were between them. The audience was winding down and Kíli went to Thorin’s side as Fíli disappeared. He would be heading for the practice yards, and maybe Nori or Gimli could take him outside his mind for a time. Bella glanced up and smiled mischievously as Kíli came to a halt, his hands trembling as he tried to breathe.

“Hello, nephew. I’m surprised to see you walking today.”

“I had to protect the honor of my family, Auntie.” Kíli bowed his head. “What are your plans today?”

“I have none, actually.” Thorin cleared his throat and they fell silent as he stood and dismissed the Court, and Dain appeared at the bottom of the steps.

“Kíli, take her to the markets and maybe she can find you something for your quarters. Like plates. Your mother was rather insistent that you live like a prince of your station, not…what did she say, _ghivashel_?”

“I think the term was rutting swine, which is unfair. Pigs are very clean, smart animals. Troll cave comes to mind.” Kíli grinned as Bella stood, her green dress rustling as she adjusted her skirts. “If it will make Dís leave you alone, Kíli, I’d be more than happy to help. I’ll see you at dinner, _khurdu_?”

“Hopefully sooner.” Ignoring the milling nobles and supplicants to the throne, Thorin clasped Bella’s hands and kissed her deeply, taking care of her crown and braids. Kíli felt himself blushing as she raised a trembling hand to his neck, their eyes locked for a breathless moment until Thorin mastered himself and turned. “Dain, a pleasure. This way, cousin.” Bella watched her husband go, her hands on her red sash and her lips parted until Kíli cleared his throat. He couldn’t believe how poorly the confrontation had gone, and the need to get Bella away from her enemies and close to those who loved her became more pressing as Narvi paused in the main doorway.

“Auntie, come along!” He dropped his voice as they made their way to the main corridor that led to the Great Market. “Are you wearing your mail?”

“No. It was too much last night and Thorin had to carry me from the wagon.”

“Is my cousin getting ready?”

“I certainly hope so.” Bella smiled as Regin fell into place behind them. “Regin says his sister’s child came early because of the dropping temperatures of autumn and I can only hope the same might hold true for me.”

“Where is your sister, Regin?” Regin glanced over at Kíli, eyes behind his helm catching the torchlight weirdly, but Kíli could hear the smile in the guard’s gruff response.

“She is a jeweler and gaining her mastery, my Prince.”

“Excellent. We need more jewelers. Apparently Thranduil’s lust for trinkets is ever growing, and his people follow him in this as everything.” Bella giggled.

“He left this morning before you woke, thank the Mother. I was nervous the entire time he was here. I like his son. I think he would make a better king.” Kíli shrugged. He remembered Legolas taking his bow away, making a rude comment about the thick fingers of dwarves being unable to use such an elegant weapon. All the elves of Mirkwood were untrustworthy. Lord Elrond was tolerable only because he communicated through letters.

“I’d wish for our mountain to be on the other side of the Misty Mountains if I could.” Bella sighed and nodded as she put her hand to a simple leather pouch peeking from her sash, tucking it out of sight. The muted hum of the Market grew louder and Regin whistled a spreading code for the guards following at a discreet distance. Five of them clattered by, and Bella shuddered as she watched them create a path into the milling crowd. Most saw the Queen’s Guards, her lavender motif prominent on their armor, and stood aside, many craning their head to catch a glimpse of her tiny figure.

“Highness!”

“It’s the Queen!”

“ _’Amad_! Look! The Queen!” The cries grew louder but no one pushed too close, giving their tiny hobbit Queen room to move along, though slowly. Kíli realized this was probably one of the first times Bella had come straight from holding Court to mingle with the common dwarves and wanted to tell her they appreciated that she wore the symbols of her power for them, but knew how much better she felt in her plainer clothes. Her words at dinner rang in his head suddenly and Kíli resolved he would tell her once they were in private. She wanted to learn more about her adopted people, not be held to different standards because of her race.

“Bella! Lass!” Bella turned as Bofur came running up, his hat perched back on his head and looking as though it would fall off at any moment. “What brings you down here?”

“Shopping.” Bella gave Bofur a hug, her face contorting in pain for such a brief moment Kíli thought he had imagined it before she was wreathed in smiles again. “Kíli needs some things and I’m at loose ends while Thorin’s with Dain.”

“What are you looking for, Kíli?” Kíli shrugged, thinking about what he had in his quarters. Weapons, of course. A wall or two full of them. Clothes that seemed to appear from nowhere and ended up strewn over his bedroom. His table covered in the remains of old meals that had so offended Dís this morning.

“Plates, I think?” Bella snorted with laughter as a young dwarf child came running close, dodging Regin’s outstretched hand easily.

“Highness Bella! We got the things you said you were looking for!” Bofur chuckled as Bella went down on one knee, looking the young boy over quickly.

“Thank you, Onar. That was very quick!”

“ _’Adad_ says he put out the word to the traders as soon as you asked.” Onar jumped up and down, suddenly noticed Bofur and Kíli and shrinking back, eyes wide. He looked like he was about to run so Kíli dropped to his knee, feeling a grin he couldn’t find covering his face.

“What does your _‘adad_ sell, Onar?”

“All kinds of things. But we got the seeds and they were real careful with them!” Onar leapt from foot to foot, short dark braids flying as Bella got back to her feet with a tiny groan that had Kíli at her side in an instant, making sure she wasn’t straining herself.

“Careful, Auntie. One hair on your head out of place and Uncle will take it out on all our hides.”

“Hush. He would not.” Kíli and Bofur exchanged glances. For all that Thorin had mastered his gold sickness, much of his possessiveness had transferred to his tiny wife, and Kíli often saw Thorin clinging to her with all his strength, face twisted in fear while she could not see. Kíli had never felt such longing, either for gold or for another being, and could only think love was like the feeling he got when he hit the center of a target or was in the middle of sparring, every movement fluid and precise.

Bella walked across the Market, waving and nodding as she was continuously hailed. Kíli and Bofur were soon holding a variety of small gifts, mostly trinkets that showcased the skill of the giver in wood, glass, stone and clay and fabric. It had been some time since Kíli had walked with Bella in such a public setting and he couldn’t believe how much the dwarves cared for their Queen. Wishes for her health and that of the babe were near constant and by the time they reached their destination Bella looked exhausted but thrilled, eyes bright as she turned and looked back over the crowd from the steps. To Kíli’s shock she spoke Khuzdul, her little voice echoing out into the great space.

“A good day to all gathered here. I am pleased to you all so happy, and I look forward to the upcoming winter to bring us closer.” Her simple words were met with cheers, and most left, content that their beloved Queen was well, and Kíli ducked into the shop after Bofur. Onar was dancing at the feet of a wide dwarf with wild braids indicating Firebeard heritage, who was bowing over Bella’s hand.

“Highness, just as you requested. Lavender from the south.” Bofur grinned and Bella smacked his arm as she accepted the beautifully wrapped package, the raw undyed linen a thoughtful touch that made Kíli wonder how many times Bella patronized the shop. Her love of gardening and sewing was well known, and her pursuits as a scholar were deeply respected. 

“Excellent.” She pressed a small bag into the trader’s hands, and he bowed shortly. “Where might we find a skilled potter?”

“Across the square, next to the glassblowers. Fraeg. She can make a mug so sturdy you can quaff with it.”

“Sounds perfect for you, Kíli.” Bella nudged Kíli in the ribs as he helped her down the steps and across the square. The shock of her unexpected appearance had abated, though many still watched her progress. She stopped halfway and took a deep breath, hand digging into her sash. “Kíli, I’m a little dizzy.”

“We’re almost there, Auntie.” Kíli slipped his hand under her arm carefully, avoiding her ribs. He would never forgive himself for the terror he had caused her at Beorn’s so long ago. Bella rallied herself and kept walking, Regin hovering at her side but his eyes elsewhere, trusting Kíli to look after the Queen. Kíli rarely thought on the oath he had taken nearly four decades ago, but today it rang loudly in his head. Bella’s scars on her neck weren’t covered today, and he put a hand to his own neck for a moment. _Shomakhîth_ marked for truth.

“Kíli, when’s the last time you heard Fíli laugh?”

“This morning.”

“You two get too serious around me, then. I’m fine. Now, go be a Prince and talk to Fraeg. She’s from the Iron Hills and was on the first caravan after the battle.” Kíli helped her into the shop and heard the gentle whir of a pottery wheel as he sat the Queen down on a small stool near the entrance, Bofur staying with her. Fraeg was probably close to Thorin’s age, her winding braids shot with grey and her short beard shining under the light of her lanterns. Kíli knocked his fist on the doorjamb and she glanced up, her strong fingers still shaping a ball as her foot tirelessly worked the pedal of her table.

“Hello, master potter. My mother sent me this way for some plates.” He grinned and she smiled back, inclining her head with respect.

“A good morning, Prince. I wondered what the commotion was. Sent the shelves rattling a bit.”

“Luckily, I do not command such regard. My Aunt is in the outer room.” Fraeg glanced down at her clay and let the wheel come to a halt, wiping her hands on a length of toweling.

“Plates for a prince, eh? And a Queen in my outer room. How far we have come.” She led him back to her tiny showroom and bowed to Bella, who was admiring a delicate vase with a shining glaze of purple and red. They fell into discussing patterns and strength while Kíli and Bofur watched, the miner pulling out a half finished carving while Kíli toyed with his dagger. Kíli finally agreed to a set of dishes glazed nearly black with just a hint of blue underneath when held in the light, on the basis Dís wouldn’t notice as many stains. They arranged for them to be delivered and Bella pressed a noticeably larger bag of coins into Fraeg’s hands. As they left Bella gasped under her breath and her hand tightened on Kíli’s arm.

“It’s Sognir. I can’t right now, Kíli.”

“Bofur.” Kíli jerked his head and Bofur was off to intercept Narvi’s friend, while Kíli led Bella down a quiet corridor used to bring supplies for the craftsmen and shopkeepers. He let her sit on a crate and leaned on the wall opposite, giving her space.     

“I swear they follow me.”

“They probably do. Looking for things to use against you.” Kíli watched two of Bella’s guards slip further down the tunnel, and the others take up position in the crowd. “Let’s go home. You can tell me what to do in my rooms so Mother will leave me alone.”

“All right. I just want to hear how Thorin’s meeting is going. If Dain is willing to work with us, Narvi’s influence will decrease.”

“I don’t put much faith in a king who only came to help after we had won.”

“Kíli…”

“I don’t, Bella. I remember the letters he would send Uncle when I was young. Always sending help with a barb in it. We might be family but I don’t think you realize…”

“Don’t even, nephew.” She put a hand on her belly, grimacing. “Because he didn’t try and have you declared incompetent and take your home, or steal things from under your nose.” Kíli thought he heard rustling in the shadows but he was too focused on making sure Bella was all right. “I never imagined such happiness could be mine, Kíli. But I also didn’t think the price would be so high.” Kíli sighed. He couldn’t tell her how he had added to her pain yet. If only he had listened to Balin more carefully! Some of Thorin’s advice suddenly rang in his head. ‘Mistakes are not failures, sister son. They are lessons with a sharper edge.’

“Bella, we are going to keep you safe. No matter what Narvi might think, no words he can think of would drive Thorin from your side, or you from our family.”

“Thank you Kíli.” Bella tried to stand, falling back with a sigh. “I do know that. But I noticed you leave out the possibility of our death or exile. Do you remember how close the goblet came to his lips? I dream of it sometimes. If I had not been there he would have died, our child never knowing his father.”

“It won’t be easy, Mistress Boggins.” She finally laughed again, heaving herself from the box she was perched on. And that’s when Kíli saw Bella’s face contort into a scream of agony.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin finds himself dealing with an unexpected crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do apologize about the cliffhanger. Didn't mean to leave you all hanging this long, but Thorin had a lot to say this time. Thank you all, once more, for your kindness and support in your lovely comments.

As the meeting between kings continued, Thorin wondered what his and Dain’s relationship would have been had Erebor not fallen. Surely the superior air of the northern king would not be bothering him so, or even exist. Nor would he be so sure of his position. The King of the Iron Hills sat stoically on his chair and ignored the offerings of wine and water, biting into the shortbread biscuits Bella had made with Bombur with no trace of relish. “Cousin, I know that Narvi has made some threats of coming back to his mother’s holdings. And I will not deny that he pushed against your quest for Erebor, but it was out of fear. His father was Thrór’s last companion and watched Azog kill him, don’t forget. Nar…”

“Was the most loyal dwarf I have ever met and he burned next to my brother with all honor, Dain. But the son is not the father, for all that he may share his bones and blood. And Narvi has declared war against my Queen.”

“Again, Thorin, I ask for proof. I heard the rumors. I do not believe them. She gave honor to me and mine, and is the strongest voice the new settlers have here. _Muhudinh_ , I hear her called.”

“Narvi does not.” Thorin gripped the newly rejoined chair, careful not to snap the fragile wood. “He spreads word that she has corrupted me and mine, that my child is in fact Fíli or Kíli’s, that she is Gandalf’s spy.”

“Thorin, you married a hobbit. Perhaps an Age ago such a union would not have raised eyebrows, but we live in different times.” Dain finally sipped at the tea. “Now, I can do nothing with what you’ve brought me. I will not seize his holdings in my kingdom, I will not publically denounce him. I will say that I support your rule, and that of your Queen’s.” Thorin nodded his head curtly when someone pounded on the door and threw it open, shouting Thorin’s name. Orcrist leapt to attack before the king registered Bofur’s distinct voice and miner’s garb.

“Thorin! Bella’s been taken to the hall of healing. She’s fine, but…” Thorin sheathed Orcrist and grabbed Bofur’s shoulders.

“What happened? My child?”

“Early labor. Óin is with her.” Bofur’s eyes crinkled nearly closed as he tried to catch breath. “It happened at the Market. Regin kept a cool head and got her to safety.”

“Blessed Mahal.” Thorin worked moisture back into his mouth. “Tell her I will be there. Go! I will be right behind you.” Bofur took to his heels and Thorin took two deep breaths. He could not run, else he would start a dozen rumors of war and disaster before he was halfway to her side. Dain snorted, not softly enough to escape notice, and Thorin turned his head slowly. “Did you have something to say, cousin mine?”

“You all dance to her tune. I did not realize.”

“Without the Queen, the killer of your father would still draw breath.” Thorin spat, his temper snapping. He had failed to protect her, his sweet Bella, and now she was frightened and looking for him. “Smaug would keep Erebor’s wealth from flowing towards you. I would be dead or imprisoned, and our people would be scattered. Dislike her for not being born of Mahal’s will and Eru’s grace, for having more influence than you, but never question my devotion to her safety again, Dain, or that of my unborn child. Else I will call you out before the gates and let my blade talk for me.” Without waiting for a reply, Thorin slammed the door behind him and began to walk as quickly as he dared, Dwalin falling in with the other guards clearing their path.

“Bofur said she was bent over in pain but there’s no blood. Óin’s with her.”

“I will believe nothing until I see her. That…” words failed him and Thorin clenched his hand, nails biting into his palm, “Dain will not help us.”

“Your namesake would make a fine king.”

“No!” Thorin nearly spun and shoved his best friend into the wall, his words echoing out into the vaults. He dropped his voice and sped his steps. “No, Dwalin. We are not Ironfists, to turn on family for power. Dain saved us. Without him I never would have dared invite the elves inside, and without them on the walls Bella and I would be dead, Fíli and Kíli with us for sure.”

“That was a year ago, to be blunt. What has he done for you recently besides obstruct?” Dwalin sneered as he kept his head on a swivel at every crossroad, 

“Tariff free trade, for one. We control the road, and he has the iron we lack. But we have the means for steel.” Thorin knew he was smirking and tried to assume his public mask. But the day the converters had been repaired had been one of the sweetest of his life, knowing he alone possessed the secrets Mahal had given to Durin. The Iron Hills had lost theirs in a war long ago and had never replaced them. It certainly gave Thorin the advantage for now.

“You need Balin here for this. I am your Captain, not your counselor.”

“I depend on you, brother, for the strength of your conviction.” Thorin tried to smile, lighten the mood before he saw Bella. She needed him calm. “And for your influence with the miners, of course.” Dwalin blushed even as his hand snuck up to touch the new beads in his beard. “I am glad for you both.”

“It’s nothing official. We wanted to wait for things to be more settled.”

“I suppose he keeps them under that ridiculous hat?” Thorin saw Regin at the door to the hall, axe twirling and eyes alert. When the bodyguard saw the King he bowed he head quickly, shoulders tensing. “Regin, where is she?”

“Private room, second door on your left. The young Prince is standing guard.” Thorin finally ran as Dwalin stayed with his counterpart. Kíli stood down the hall, sword at the ready and brought up into a defensive counter as Thorin appeared, robes whipping around his ankles. Kíli dropped his arms immediately, relief flooding his face.

“She’s fine, Uncle. False labor, just like Mother.” Kíli’s eyes were red but his smile was easy. Thorin let out a rush of breath and clapped his heir on his shoulders. It was a common problem for first time mothers, especially among the Longbeards, and was easily dealt with if a physician was on hand. He stepped into the room and found Bella lying in bed, face pale but smiling as Bofur teased her. She wore only her pale under-tunic and it made her look smaller under the heavy blankets. Thorin didn’t pause as he walked to her side and kissed her thoroughly, her mouth bitter with herbs, her lavender scent calming his racing heart as his hands tightened on her shoulders.

“ _Ghivashel_.” She sighed into his kiss, hand sneaking up to rest on the nape of his neck and pull him closer while the other rested on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric. Thorin adjusted his grip, his hand cupping her tiny chin and resting on her soft cheek. They finally broke apart, their eyes locking as Bella caressed his beard, trying to reassure him.

“ _Khurdu_. Óin said he had prepared for this and Kíli got me here after Regin slapped some sense into him. You ought to let him know if I’m in danger, he certainly can touch me.”

“He would not if your kin was on hand, but had you been alone I’m sure he’ll appreciate the assurance.” Thorin brushed her braids back from her face, feathering kisses down her cheeks. Óin came into the room and clapped Thorin on the shoulder even as he firmly pulled the King aside to check on his patent.

“Look at that. Color back already. Your cramps are gone?”

“Yes, thank you _nadad_.” Bella took Óin’s hand, speaking loudly since he didn’t have his horn. “And the babe?”

“Doing just fine. I can hear his heartbeat.” Óin patted her hand again, then grabbed Thorin’s shoulder and pulled him out into the hall as Kíli moved away to give them some privacy. “She needs to rest. Her body’s undergone too much stress the past few days.”

“Can she come to dinner?” Thorin realized how selfish it sounded as Óin glared at him, but he had real concern for her reputation. She couldn’t just attend the public gatherings when outside guests were in the Mountain. Óin sighed and pulled at his bead.

“If that’s all she does. And I mean that, Thorin. No gardening, no going to the market, nothing.” Thorin winced and Óin smirked. “And you can tell her.”

“Coward.” Óin cackled as Thorin turned to go back to his Queen.

“And I’ll want to be made aware of her health at all times. Assign her runners and some of the ravens. I think Raka has taken a liking to her. And I think she’ll be going into labor in a month, now. That should give your babe enough time to get strong.”

“I’ll be guided by you, old friend. Another of the line of Durin for you to worry about.”

“Blessed Mahal preserve me.” Óin rolled his eyes as they walked back into the room, Bella reaching out for Thorin and whispering something in her secret tongue. He was still learning and didn’t understand, but the longing was clear and he climbed into bed with his Queen after putting his weapons aside. Bofur left them with promises to spread the news that she was hale, and Thorin could not muster any energy to tease his friend about leaving now that he knew Dwalin was close by, simply nodding his thanks as Bella pushed herself into his chest and Thorin folded his arms around her. She still fit against him perfectly and Thorin bent his head over hers, ignoring his friends for now. They had so little time alone these days; their responsibilities meant long hours, and Bella’s care for the land often had her out of the Mountain most days. He looked forward to first snowfall. He might be a father by then.

“The people in the Market will be worried.” Bella whispered against his neck, her voice soft.

“I will send Fíli there to reassure them, then.” Thorin decided to hold onto his bad news for the moment. “As for you, _ghivashel_ , it is time you take care of yourself, and let our chambers become your study for a time.”

“But there is so much to do!”

“And there are many willing hands to follow your orders.” Bella sighed and nodded, her eyes closing.

“I am not used to this, Thorin.”

“I know.” He pressed their foreheads together and let his hand cover her belly. “I have to get back to Dain and fix what my outburst likely caused.”

“Did you fight with him?”

“We exchanged words about my worry for you. Please, _ghivashel_ , put such thoughts from your mind. I will be back as soon as I am able.”

“Uncle?” Fíli stuck his golden head into the room and sighed in relief, his moustaches swinging around his mouth. “Auntie, thank Mahal you’re all right. Uncle, Balin heard what happened and stepped in to speak to Dain. He’s agreed to stay for dinner tonight. Balin sent this.” Fíli expertly flicked a sealed square of parchment to Thorin. “I asked Bofur to take care of the meeting with the guilds, with Bifur there as reinforcement. Bombur’s working on the meal for you and the nobles, Nori is assuring everyone that Bella’s all right and Dori, by the commotion I heard, has started a row with Lord Sognir at the practice yards. Ori’s probably doing the research you asked for, and Glóin is with Dain’s entourage. So you have a free afternoon, and I hope you’ll take proper advantage.” Thorin leaned back, searching his nephew’s face for any trace of the boisterous youth he had been behind the façade of cheerful efficiency and found none.

“And yourself?”

“I’ve been with Dain’s advisors. Dropping hints. One of them is a veteran of the battle and has proper regard for you, Auntie, and has family recently settled here.”

“Who?” Bella snuggled her head into Thorin’s chest, and Fíli came to sit by them. His mask seemed to falter for a moment and Thorin wondered what else his heir was hiding but this was not the time.

“His cousin Nyr. She’s a jeweler, of particular skill with opals.”

“She gave me a bracelet when she moved here as tribute.” Bella smiled. “I will wear it tonight.” Fíli and Thorin exchanged a wondering glance. The kingdom still numbered in the low thousands, perhaps five with the latest influx of settlers, but Bella still managed to connect with each of her subjects. She kept Thorin from many a gaffe and gave him the undeserved reputation of a caring king.

“You will be very welcome at my side.” Thorin squeezed her tightly. “As soon as Óin says you can leave we will go to our chambers and you will rest. I promise to stay with you.”

“The greatest gift possible, _khurdu_.” Bella closed her eyes. “Fíli, tell me why you and Kíli were talking to Narvi during the end of the audience today? He looked furious.” Fíli glanced up with real fear in his eyes, but swallowed and answered quietly as Thorin listened with growing horror.

“I challenged him on your behalf.”

“You did what?” Thorin’s voice rasped in his throat as Fíli met his gaze unflinching, defiance sparking.

“Mother told us to talk to him, lay down some subtle threats, but I lost my temper. He was so smug!” Fíli snarled. “And then he said Glóin had done much the same.”

“And when were you going to tell me? I’ve been working as delicately as I could with the others, but this…Mahal’s forges! Go get Balin right now! Pull him out of the meeting and tell him what you’ve done.” Fíli grew pale and Bella’s hand on his arm helped Thorin draw breath. “I know this wasn’t your idea, sister son, but losing your temper may have ruined our chances.” Fíli bowed his head and left silently as Thorin flinched away from his hypocrisy and the king promised himself he would tell Fili what his Uncle had done with his own temper. He watched how the Queen processed this new information, her eyes darting back and forth as she worried at her lip.

“You need to reassure him, Thorin. He’s lost some of his influence and now three of the royal family have publically humiliated him. Invite him to the High Table in a few days. I will stay away. Give Fíli my seat, and you all bite your tongues. And the Lord Lofar and the Lady Vestri.” She named two of the more powerful nobles who had no real allegiance, sometimes supporting the conservatives, other times Thorin, when the guilds were voting. They were a good choice and Thorin nodded. “And make it a habit to rotate the nobles who dine with us. We’ve been far too insular dining with just the Company and see how we pay.”

“I will let you lead us, wife, because I’ve just managed to put Dain’s back up and anger a block of my supporters. At least Fíli’s anger was directed at the proper target.” Thorin couldn’t help but feel some pride in Fíli’s bravery and Bella gave him an exasperated look.

“Husband, you knew taking me as wife and Queen would cause some trouble among your people.”

“Trouble I can handle. It’s the whispers that I cannot fight.”

“Then why not counter them with the truth? I know…”

“No! I can see the pain in your eyes. As you said, it will never leave you. You are not defined by their attack.” Bella’s face paled and Thorin loosened his grip on her, afraid he was reminding her too strongly of memories best left buried. Her green eyes met his as she leaned forward, pressing dry lips to his fingers before speaking.

“Why not mention our first night together, then? Tell them how we shared my _sanzarira_ and…”

“And what? To use such a night of pure joy and love to buy ourselves a few political allies for a limited time sickens me. It was ours alone, _ghivashel_ , and only ours because of your bravery.” Bella nodded heavily, but put her hand over his heart.

“Ruling means accepting such sacrifices.” Thorin bent his head, defeated, as she continued. “Durin said that.”

“You know my ancestors better than I do.” Thorin pulled her close again and dropped a hand to her neck, tracing her scars. Bella said nothing, just put her hand to his damaged ear and tugged on his braid gently.

“Probably. Go ask Óin if you can take me away. These rooms are too full of suffering and pain to let me enjoy the gift of your company.” Thorin smiled and brushed a kiss over her forehead before untangling their limbs, going out into the hallway to find Óin approaching with a glass full of what could only be described as pondweed. Thorin blanched as the healer shook his head.

“Impatient as ever. Give her this and you can go. And first thing you tell Dwalin is to set up trusted runners. Use some of the older children. You couldn’t find anyone more devoted to her except the Company and some of us don’t move how we used to.” Thorin laughed weakly as Kíli sniggered. Óin disappeared as Thorin went back to Bella, shuddering as she drank the mixture as fast as she could while holding her nose and grimacing, pushing the glass back into Thorin’s hands and wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

“It’s a good thing Óin saved our lives a few times.”

“Agreed.” Thorin set the glass aside and gently lifted Bella into his arms, making sure she was comfortable before starting the long climb back to their rooms. Tonight he would begin to repair what he had destroyed. Now he was just a husband with a sick wife who needed his strength.

 

Once in their rooms, Thorin helped Bella into bed and Balin’s letter poked his hand as the king fumbled in his pocket for an uncut gem of chrysoprase he had been given earlier. With a sigh, Thorin fell into his chair and worked the wax loose, noting his counselor had used his own house’s seal, wondering what that might mean. As Thorin skimmed over Balin’s precise runes, his brain took a moment to catch the key phrases and he had to start over, pushing past his worry.

_Thorin_

_I have been giving some thought to our hobbit’s first real winter in the Mountain. Without her gardens to keep her serenity close to hand I fear motherhood and the closed-in nature of our home will make it a difficult time for her. Think on what we can do for her and tell me what you think. Now that I’ve that out between us, we must turn our thoughts north. Gundabad is still a nest of vipers coiled, poised to strike. You know as well as I that having an external threat can often calm domestic strife if played correctly. At least let us look at increasing patrols to give the younger warriors field experience. Óin has told me he and An have both had dreams of a nameless threat, and the portents seem to be consistently pointing to a growing evil in the world. I wonder if it is time to consult…_

The writing changed to a hurried scrawl; Thorin could feel the anxiety rolling from the page as he continued.

_Fíli has just brought me news of Bella. I go to Dain. Face forward, Thorin!_

 Thorin set the note aside with a sigh. Balin was correct on all counts. Thorin could see Bella growing overwhelmed at times, the constant strangeness of her new home grating against her hobbit instincts. She had once had Bag End as her private sanctuary. Perhaps they could give her something similar. “Thorin? Where did you go?” Her voice sounded stronger and Thorin rose quickly before she could grow worried.

“Coming, _ghivashel_!” Thorin tossed the note into the fire and pushed aside the curtain that divided their bedroom from the outer chambers. She was holding another book from Ori, the cover covered in runes made from crushed amethyst crystals shimmering in the candlelight. “My apologies. You deserve more than my wandering attention.” His wife smiled and flushed. “I’ve put your plan into motion. Now. I think it’s my husbandly duty to take your mind from these troubles.” He took her book and set it aside carefully, making sure the copper bookmark was in place before planting his hands on either side of her shoulders and dropping his lips to hers. He never grew tired of the little sighs of pleasure his touch brought Bella and deepened their kiss, tangling his tongue with hers and rolling to his side, mindful of the child between them as he felt movement against his chest. Thorin rested his hand on the thin cloth of her shift and grinned as he felt his babe kick once more, pressing his lips to the spot. “Wait a while longer, _khuzdith_. Let your _‘amad_ keep you safe.” Bella made a soft noise, stifled quickly, but Thorin knew he had made her cry as he returned to kissing her lips and cheeks, soothing her by humming one of her hobbit walking songs until she started to laugh, falling back to the pillows with bright eyes, her tear tracks already gone.

“Why don’t you come over here and tell me how pretty I am.” Thorin growled and was about to pounce when he heard the outer door slam open and someone ran inside.

“Uncle! Auntie! I just got word that…that…” Kíli burst into the bedroom and Thorin could hear his nephew’s body curl in on itself as he whirled around, bent over at the waist.

“That you need to learn the meaning of the word privacy?” Thorin had been very impressed at Bella’s speed ducking under the blankets, what was visible of her face as pink as her favorite roses. “Or that you really do have the manners of an elf?”

“No need to get nasty, Thorin.” Bella’s laughter shone through her words. “Tell us, Kíli. And then get out before I start talking about how much I want him to continue kissing my ear and…”

“Auntie! Stop! I’m sorry. I heard that Dain left the meeting and immediately went to the Market. Where he heard how the people were worrying about you and your babe. He said you were truly the _Muhudinh_ they spoke of if so many could be worried about the fate of one not their own. Anyway, Fíli said we should tell you right away.”

“Maybe Fíli was trying to get you spanked.”

“I’m leaving!” Kíli yelped and ran for the door. Dwalin stuck his head inside and saw Thorin pulling the curtain emphatically closed.

“Sorry. It was a choice between letting him in or using my axes.”

“Next time think harder.” Dwalin grinned as he closed the door and Thorin went back to Bella, but their ardor had been quenched for the moment with the reminder they dared not bar the door, else risk locking guards and allies outside if an assassin found another way to enter their rooms. Thorin just held her, letting her talk about the dwarves she had met when she sat up with a small cry.

“The seeds! Where are they?”

“Regin gave them to me when we got here. I put them on your potting table. What kind of seeds?”

“Secret seeds.” Thorin dropped his lips to the curve of her little ear and nibbled up to the point until she groaned and tried to push him away, and he rolled with her gentle push against his shoulder, smiling as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Then am I to be forbidden from the garden while they grow?”

“If you managed to identify them before they flower I’ll make you whatever kind of pie you want for a week.” Thorin turned, expecting to see Bella smiling but she seemed serious.

“You should start hoarding flour then.” She broke as he took her wrist and licked a trail up to the sensitive skin of her elbow, giggling even as she turned her arm so he could reach all he wanted. They lay in bed together until the growing darkness outside told Bella it was time to prepare. Thorin refused to put her in mail, saying her body was unready for the strain, and despite his distaste for her ring urged her to carry it tonight, wondering why her face grew panicked for a moment until her hand closed on a small leather pouch near her scarlet sash. “Were you carrying it today?”

“Just in case, Thorin. Help me into my robes.”

“ _Ghivashel_ , I wish you would leave it in the casket I made you. It will be more than safe.” Thorin went to one of the many cedar chests against the wall, finding the green robes embroidered with her sigil as Bella sighed quietly.

“I forgot today.”

“Tomorrow will you leave it behind? Please?”

“I will be here all day.” Bella turned and shrugged into the enveloping wool, her head bent as her voice grew tart. “But yes, I will put away the trinket that just happened to allow me to free you, my king.” Thorin winced but said nothing more until she was dressed as his Queen once more, and he bent over their dressing table to find the beads he had combed out when her small arms were around his waist. “Please forgive me, _khurdu_. I really didn’t think about it and…”

“Bella, there is nothing you have to apologize for.” Thorin grabbed her hands and let her weight on his back warm him as she rested her head into his under tunic. “Don’t strain yourself. I will see you safe.” She combed his hair with the mithril comb he had found for her in the ruins of their home, and Thorin allowed himself a moment to relax under her ministrations until she planted a kiss on his forehead and pressed his crown into his hands. Thorin ignored the heavy circlet, instead staring deep into Bella’s eyes until he saw the sparkle of a mischievous hobbit agreeing to steal food from elves for homeless dwarves and claimed her lips as his prize before donning mantle of King once more.

They walked hand in hand, flanked by their friends until they reached the more private dining room Dori had completed only two days ago, finding a healthy mix of Iron Hill and Erebor dwarves all ready gathered. Dain bowed to Bella and inquired after her health, his groomed crest bent over her hand in the most obvious sign of respect possible, and Thorin fell back on biting the inside of his cheek to stop a multitude of comments from damaging anything more. Bella was given a seat quickly once Óin glared over at his King, most following her example and helping themselves to Bombur’s excellent presentation of wild hare and potatoes. Once the meal was in full swing, conversations flowing at a steady pace despite the lack of mead or beer, Balin touched Thorin’s elbow and dropped his voice.

“Whatever it was you said to Dain seemed to shake him to his core. He has promised to look into Narvi’s activities in the Iron Hills closely and will keep us informed.” Balin glanced down the table as Bella spoke to some of the other dwarves, her crown drawing many thoughtful glances as she tossed her braids over her shoulder. “I had little hope of success, but this day has turned out better than I could have hoped. Renewed ties between our kingdoms, the Queen safe and the first step taken towards regaining more power.”

“And perhaps a new threat uncovered. I have sent ravens searching for Gandalf. He has disappeared somewhere in the west and none of Nori’s contacts have sent word.” Thorin brought his goblet to his lips, letting the water fill his mouth. “The next few months will be an interesting, I think.”

“Then let us meet them together, laddie.” Thorin and Balin shared a brief smile as they watched friendships forged around them, the hammer strokes of laughter and conversation uniting a fractured kingdom one word at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too damn right the dwarves know the Bessemer Process. This will never not be true for me. I imagine Mahal drawing the converter on the wall in Mount Gundabad and saying “This is all you need to be stronger than your enemies,” and he would be right.
> 
> Muhudinh - lady who is blessed


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company rallies together to protect the Queen as winter finally arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t mean this chapter to go on so long. But Dís, as a mother and Bella’s sister, grabbed hold of this part of the story and would Not. Let. Go.

"Explain why this anvil wasn’t reported, and try not to use words that will tangle your tongue.” The snarl that rose from Dís’ chest as she looked down at a shattered anvil, the impurities in the iron underneath the steel clear, tore through her chest and reminded her of the wolf packs that lived in the Blue Mountains. The apprentice blanched and dropped her eyes, words tumbling from her mouth as she tried not to shake.

“I’ve never seen this anvil before today. It was sitting among the new repairs that I was supposed to test. One stroke from my hammer did this.”

“You did not check for a brand?” Dís frowned, and the apprentice winced.

“No, Princess.” Dís hunkered down, seeing the point of contact had broken through the steel face to expose the iron below. An older method of making an anvil, but for softer metals it was a proven and faster way, so nothing unusual there. The steel seemed thin. Dís dug into her apron’s pockets, finding her magnifier and tweezers. She reached out for a jagged sliver and held it up to the nearest lantern, turning her prize back and forth.

“Something wrong with the steel.” She lowered her hands and sighed, raising her voice. “Go over the pieces and see if you can find any mark. Not your fault, though. Someone else should have caught this before presenting it for testing. And thank you for calling me.” The girl’s face brightened and Dís was reminded of Kíli emerging from behind his hair, grateful an expected punishment had miraculously lifted. “Once you’re done, put it in one of the bins and set it aside for me. I’d like to run some tests later.” Dís dropped the sliver into a small container in her pocket and went back to her forge, lost in thought. A shadow moved against her workbench and she spun without thinking, pushing a blade to Nori’s throat, her boot poised to strike.

“Nice moves, Princess. Not that I would expect anything less from the house of Durin.”

“Your house too. I could have killed you, fool.” Nori grinned and stroked his pointed beard as she sheathed her arm dagger and glanced around her forge. “What brings you to the guild?”

“Some musings. Naturally, as a dwarf of leisure and comfort, I happen upon conversations with my fellow nobles from time to time.” Dís rolled her eyes and checked the air intake of her forge, pumping the bellows idly as she watched the coals leap to life.

“But of course.”

“And there’s some whispers about my brother and yours in conference most every day in the library.”

“Ori? And Thorin?” Dís froze, mind racing. Ori was restoring the great collection painstakingly, with advice from Balin and others and many hands to help, but his was the mind directing every movement. “Why?”

“I know not. And you know how that eats at me.” Dís growled again. She had no patience this morning; the feast for Dain’s departure had been five days ago, and Bella’s sudden enforced bed rest had all in the Royal Wing realizing how much she did for them. Dís had grown far too dependant on the tea Bella used to bring her in the morning, and from what glimpse she had seen of Thorin on his way to the morning audience, his appearance had been less kingly and more rumpled that she recalled.

“Spit it out, poacher. I have little time to work on this before I must leave.”

“Ori has closed the Númenor and Gondor room. Says there’s some books in there that he’s afraid might crumble so he’s working on them to preserve the knowledge.”

“Sounds like Ori being Ori to me.” Nori shook his head.

“I know you helped teach him with your sons, and for that alone I might have followed your brother, for giving him a better life than Dori and I could in the Blue Mountains. But you do not know him like I do. He is evasive, nervous. And for all that he’s my brother, he did not learn my…” Nori trailed off, waving an eloquent hand, but Dís filled the silence.

“Ability to lie.” Nori jumped as she slammed the door to her forge shut and closed the air intake. “No more. I have a meeting with the traders in my quarters. Come with me and we will talk in private. And I have something for you to give Dori, anyway.” Nori fell in beside her as the princess stomped through the wide corridors up towards the Royal Wing, neither of them speaking. The Queen’s Guard had door duty, but Nori and Dís were nodded through with respect. Once in her private chambers, they wordlessly cleared the rooms before sitting before the fire. “So, my spy…”

“I prefer scout, if it’s all the same to you.” Nori grinned, but sobered as Dís sneered. “I don’t know why I agreed to this sometimes.”

“Because a poacher of game can be turned into a poacher of information, thief.”

“Very well, smith.” Dís leaned back with a sigh. She needed to get out of her apron and into her Court robes, but now she could pretend she was just a jobbing smith who happened to be raising two princes, meeting Nori in the dark taverns of Men as they both roamed the west. “I honestly, on my mother’s tomb, have no idea why Ori is so skittish about this. Except that I overheard Thorin at the feast for Dain, talking to Balin. About a new threat uncovered. Balin looked…nonplussed. For the briefest of moments. Like Thorin was musing out loud, forgetting where he was. I think the stress got to him.”

“Very unlike both of them, then.” Dís nodded slowly. “Focus your network on Narvi. My sons lost their tempers spectacularly and clued him into our anger. So now we must play nice, while you do the work you do so well.”

“I’m flattered.” Nori leaned back and started up at the ceiling, lips pursed. “So you’re not worried about Thorin?”

“I pride myself I can talk to him and get what I need, Nori.”

“I don’t doubt it. Well, I’ll do what I do. And I hope things settle down. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go see our darling Queen and cheer her up.”

“Before you leave, wait a moment.” Dís dug into her pockets and found the small container with her steel sliver. “Tell Dori to look at this.”

“Of course.” Nori flipped the container into his hand and grinned as he left. Dís went to change, unable to hide her amusement at her secret agent’s enthusiasm and hoping his confidence was warranted.

 

At dinner, Bella entered the hall on Thorin’s arm, waking slowly and surrounded by the rest of the Company. Dís beamed as the kingdom rose to their feet at their entrance, only sitting when Thorin helped Bella to her padded seat, Óin hovering nearby. The food was less than yesterday, but still excellent and the happy hum of conversation warmed the Princess as she watched Thorin and Fíli talk in an undertone, with Bella shooting them both equally fond and exasperated looks. Kíli was bent over his plate, trying and failing to avoid her gaze, and Dís felt her heart clench as she reached over to touch his shoulder. “Nugget, talk to me. We’re not angry.”

“I ignored everything that you said to do, _‘amad_.” He shook his head. “And then when Bella was lying on the ground screaming I couldn’t do anything until Regin slapped me.”

“And you got her to Óin safely, without hurting her further. If she had been with any of the others, they wouldn’t have been as fast.” Dís turned her head as she listened to Thorin for a moment.

“There is nothing to forgive, sister son. You said what I would have. What I did say to Dain.” Her brother’s voice was heavy with regret as he spoke to Fíli, but Bella reached her hand out and took his, their eyes meeting. Dís looked away as quickly as she could, returning to her son.

“I know your aunt has forgiven you several times. Forgive yourself and face forward, Kíli. We’ll need your strength in the coming months.” Kíli nodded wordlessly, but his shoulders straightened and he started to needle Ori about keeping to himself in the library all days, never joining them at the practice yard. Ori stuttered and Dís and Nori glanced at the other, trying not to show their interest.

“Oh, well, um, these books. They’re fading on me and yes. The King said the knowledge was important. I’m almost done.”

“Calm down, Ori!” Kíli laughed. “Your work is being sold in the Market now. I saw a copy of the _Tales of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield_ today.” Ori grinned. “Though I noticed I was given a somewhat smaller role than others.”

“Write your own book, then.” Ori smirked and Nori chortled.

“You tell him, Ori. Our prince is simply jealous he didn’t wield Dwalin’s hammer so skillfully.”

“Don’t look at me! Bofur was the one doing all the wielding.” Dís groaned as the insults degenerated into puns, mostly at the expense of Dwalin who simply held Bofur’s hand and did his best to ignore the lot. Dís caught Thorin’s eye, her brother’s face relaxing into a pleased smile as his wife rested her head on his chest, his hand covering Bella’s small head. Tomorrow, Narvi would be at the table, along with other nobles who would require careful handling. Tonight, the last night only family and friends would dine together, Dís tried to keep the smile on her face, but the knowledge of building secrets between them was a nagging worry she could not push away.

 

“Thorin, you look _fine_.” Bella called from the bedroom, where she was ensconced with a pile of books and the largest teapot Fraeg had been able to fire. “Please just go so you can come back!” Dís laughed from where she sat in front of the fire, leafing through reports on the new caravans of food and the prices they were demanding. Thorin stood in the doorway to the bedroom tugging at his robes, trying to get them to sit correctly.

“As you say, wife.” Thorin grumbled and turned. “Let’s get this catastrophe started, shall we?”

“Very good, brother. And when we arrive are we going to be somewhat pleasant or am I going to have to kick you all night to make you smile?” Dís stuck her head in the bedroom to bid Bella a good night, finding her sister propped up and paging through her own copies of various reports. Thorin stood next to Dís and laughed fondly.

“I should keep you in bed more often, _ghivashel_. Your efforts have cleared my desk for the first time in months!” Dís sucked in her breath as Bella’s head turned slowly, her eyes wide and her mouth pressed into a firm line.

“What did you just say?” Dís couldn’t move as the Queen appeared, her chin held high and her eyes only on the Princess, ignoring Thorin entirely. “I think you should take him, Dís, and make sure this dinner goes well. And then you can explain why he’ll be out in my armchair tonight.” She dropped the reports on the floor and picked up a nearby book, every line of her body tense. Dís could not imagine anywhere she’d like to be less except for Mount Gundabad, and even then she might take her chances with the Orcs. Gritting her teeth, Dís collared Thorin and dragged him out in the hallway, where he turned and tried to go back to Bella.

“Brother, give her some time to cool down. And try and imagine what it would be like to be trapped in bed for fear of your child’s life.”

“I…” Thorin’s face fell as he put his hand on the door, his head dropping before he took a deep breath, looking down the hall. “Regin! Stay on the door while we’re gone.” He walked down the corridor quickly, Dís easily keeping pace with him, her hands folded behind her back, staying quiet until Thorin glanced over at her. Dwalin materialized out of the tunnels behind them, but he caught his King’s mood and wisely stayed silent.

“I don’t remember you being ill tempered.”

“I was. Víli spent several nights sleeping outside the bedroom.” Dís laughed under her breath. “Sometimes there are things you don’t want to hear. And honestly? I would have been just as furious if you had said that to me, Thorin. Implying she was only good for doing the work you don’t want to do was cruel.”

“I will apologize.” Thorin swallowed heavily as Bifur and Glóin approached near the dining hall.

“The princes are at the table already. The Lady Vestri arrived before we expected her, and we could not keep her waiting.” Glóin gripped his axe and his beard bristled as he spoke, the beads Suthri had made him jingling quietly. Bifur just leaned on his spear and sneered, making a few rude gestures that Dís could fully agree with.

“At least she accepted the invitation.” Dís let out her breath. “And Narvi?”

“He is waiting to walk in with you.”

“No. He will approach after I have seated myself. Dís, I would ask you and Glóin to walk with him, and Bifur, when the Lord Lofar arrives, you and a few others from the Company walk with him.” Dís shuddered but agreed. Thorin slipped away to use the side entrance to avoid insult, Dwalin with him and Dís took a moment to herself, taking deep breaths and reminding herself of how her father had walked these halls before rounding the corner and finding Narvi at the center of a small group. They glanced up, falling silent and bowing their heads as she strode by them, every inch of her tingling as she confronted Bella’s enemy.

“Good evening, Lord Narvi. Thorin awaits us inside. Walk with me.” She looked down at them all, smiling tightly, as the older dwarf bowed his head the mere fraction below outright disrespect. Dís simply bared her teeth and started the long walk to the High Table. She took Bella’s seat, facing Fíli and next to the Lady Vestri, white hair shining with topaz and opals twisted set into gold chains. Dís could not help peering closer and the other dwarrowdam grinned.

“Thought you might like this, Dís.”

“You mean to tempt me, Vestri?” Dís disposed of titles with gratitude. “It’s beautiful.”

“I was pleased to commission it. My guild and yours have always had a good relationship.”

“And we are honored the stonecrafters think so highly of us.” Vestri hummed under her breath for a moment as Thorin stood to formally salute his people, his deep voice showing none of the tension Dís had seen only moments before. Her brother liked to claim he had only become King because she and Víli had been new married, but Dís knew he had been groomed far better than she to be the stern King, while she was the Princess, always to stand at his side as shield and weapon against all as he needed. The High Table joined in the toast and Thorin glanced down the table to Lofar, who was listening to Balin and nodding slowly.

Narvi sat in silence until Thorin began to speak to him of trade, and Dís drew Vestri into the dry topic, and while the older dwarf shot the younger a look promising a talk later on, Vestri managed to be a buffer for Thorin as Dís turned her attention to Lofar, making sure he did not feel neglected. The night was a blur of meaningless conversations and watching Thorin’s mask grow stiff, until she felt the nobles would not be insulted by the royal family withdrawing. “My lords, my ladies, we are honored you would join us, and look forward to more evenings together.” She and Thorin left, flanked by Dwalin and Balin, leaving the rest of the Company to see how Narvi acted. Thorin barely paused before jerking his head at Dwalin.

“We’re going to the kitchens.”

“We just ate. Is Bella turning you into a hobbit?”

“She might be.” Thorin left and Balin raised his eyebrow at Dís.

“Thorin angered Bella. He’s smarter than I thought.”

“Indeed.” Balin sighed deeply. “Poor Bella.”

“Poor Bella? Do not pity her, Balin. She would be furious if you said that to her.” Dís folded her arms and glared down at Balin, who shook his head, eyes sad as he stared past her shoulder.

“And I would explain that I worry that she has no place to center herself. I’m sure Thorin deserves whatever punishment she might mete out; that boy stumbles over pebbles at the slightest opportunity. But it shows how her nerves have been frayed by living among a people not her own.”

“Her own people…” Dís snarled deep in her throat. “I have watched her try and speak of it. I did not spend much time in the Shire, and I will admit I know almost nothing of hobbits. But…”

“It was her home, Dís. You have returned to yours. She might never see hers again. I want her to have peace.”

“You are an excellent father, Balin.” Dís clapped him on the shoulders as he turned to make his way to his own rooms, the old warrior smiling before taking his leave. Deciding to let Bella know how the dinner had gone, Dís made her way to the door and found Regin waiting. “Is she well?”

“Aye. She asked me to let you in if you stopped by.”

“Anything else I should know?” Regin’s face shut down and he stared straight ahead as he knocked a code on the door and opened it. Bella was singing but stopped as Dís walked inside.

“Dís?”

“Just me.”

“Blessed Mother.” Bella’s voice was raspy and Dís hastened into the bedroom, finding the Queen propping a large red book on her belly, her pen scribbling over the pages. The leather was good but plain, and very clearly not of dwarf make, with only a small star embossed in gold at the top and a simple tie to hold the pages closed.

“That looks pretty.”

“A wedding present from Prim and Drogo. They might have gotten my letter about the child by now if the caravan traveled quickly.” Bella strained for the pounce pot and Dís nudged it closer, getting the blotting paper ready and taking quill and inkpot in return so that Bella could sit more comfortably.

“I’m sure they’re very happy for you.” Dís realized that Balin was right about the little hobbit missing something as Bella sniffled into her handkerchief before answering.

“They are. They’re settling into Bag End quite well, it seems. Lobelia is furious and has threatened legal action, but my lawyers…my father’s lawyers have managed to secure everything. It’s nice to think of a family roaming those halls again.” Bella set the journal aside and sighed. “I’ve been writing of our journey for my babe so when he asks what happened I’ll have more than just my memory to rely on.”

“I’d love to read it. Ori’s tales are well done as any epic once written in Old Erebor, but there’s little of what everyone did day to day.”

“Walked.” Bella giggled, leaning back into her pillows. “Thorin pushed us so hard over the Misty Mountains. Even Dwalin complained to me. It was frightening but all the troubles were right in front of us, not hiding behind friendly masks. Speaking of which?”

“The dinner went well. Vestri and Lofar were not overly friendly but they were less so to Narvi, and Vestri made a point of mentioning the relationship between our guilds.”

“Excellent news, then. Do you think I angered Thorin?”

“Bella! After what he said to you I was ready to kick him for you!” Dís glared down at her sister. “He feels awful about it, using your health and fear to make a tasteless joke.”

“But pregnant females are irrational.”

“Is this more Shire talk?” Bella nodded, staring down at her clasped hands. “More nonsense, then. Using normal reactions to belittle you. You make him apologize, and when you feel like he’s properly sorry, forgive him. And that’s all there is too it.”

“You’re the diplomat of the family? I shudder to imagine.” But there were tears in Bella’s eyes still, despite her teasing, and Dís sat quietly under Bella could speak again. “He will not hate me?”

“Of course not. I’ll leave you. I imagine he’s lugging something ridiculous up here and you should enjoy your time alone.” Dís took Bella’s small hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. “Yavanna’s trees shelter you, _namadith._ ”

“And you, sister.”

 

Dís only heard snippets of what had happened after she left, but apparently cake and tea and copious amounts of poetry were involved. Bella could never speak of it without blushing, and Thorin would only smile and touch his hand to his heart. The practical result of their conversation was a new room in their quarters built by the stonecrafters and Bofur, with a rounded ceiling covered in a veneer of pine and the cold floors draped in carpets of all colors. It became known as Bella’s reading cave, and none were permitted to enter without her express permission. Ori made a fair likeness of the rolling hills of the Shire on the wall, covering it with a window frame before scurrying back to the library, but not before Bella hugged him so tightly she had the imprint of his buttons on her cheek the rest of the day. And the morning, Dís woke to find the snows of winter embracing Erebor. Winter had always been her favorite time of year, despite the hardship of many. The cold had meant the wandering breadwinners would return home to the fortress in the Blue Mountains, and even after Dís had become a mother and ceased her wandering, she had loved the contrast between her living forge and the sleeping world around her. So Dís was in her forge more and more, making a set of nursery tools for Bella. Dís kept glancing into the bin with the shattered anvil, but there were more pressing issues, such as ensuring enough linens were being made, the weaver’s guild more than happy to contribute their labor to the unborn babe. The entire kingdom was holding its breath, watching Bella at the High Table as her belly seemed to settle lower and lower, the glow of her face outshining her crown. Dís would admit she remembered being the object of such scrutiny and missing the feeling of all her people focused on her, while delighted that Bella was receiving the same.

 

The entire day before the long anticipated dinner, where Narvi would sit with Bella for the first time, was spent in conference, everyone listening to Balin’s plan. Though plan was being kind, Dís mused, as she listened to Bifur and Dori argue how long Bella’s train ought to be and what should be embroidered on it. Bella sat between Thorin’s legs, hemming a beautiful blanket embroidered with flowers of all colors and shapes she had just finished, apparently ignoring them all as she bit off her thread and put Thorin’s finger in place to help her tie the knot before she spoke. “My train will be of no length, for I will not wear a new dress. I will wear the green and lavender robes I wore for the elves. Dís told me of the complaints about my ever-increasing wardrobe, and for all that I confess I do quite enjoy my clothes, I will not let them endanger us. Perhaps once the people feel they are on a more secure footing.” Dori sputtered but Dís was pleased to see thoughtful nods.

Vestri and Lofar had been invited again to get to know Bella and provide a distraction, and the only firm resolve shared among them was not to let Narvi and Bella speak directly to the other, and for her family to hold back any threats they wanted to utter until after they had left the table. And with those aims in mind, it was a successful evening. By any other standard, it was a miserable, tense evening and Dís distracted herself by discussing how steel might fail with Lofar, who had some interesting thoughts on the overuse of coal in the converters. Vestri and Bella spoke for much of the evening about the history of the dwarves, the powerful noble evidently impressed by the hobbit’s quickly acquired knowledge of her people. Still, despite the pleasant conversations, there were long periods of silence broken by Narvi’s needling questions and Dís came close to drawing her daggers more than once, and she saw Thorin’ hand close on Orcrist’s hilt and remain there for the rest of the meal.

If there was a discordant note, it came not from the High Table, but from the tingle between her shoulder blades. Dís tried to be circumspect in studying the table behind her, finally seeing too many lingering stares from a group of Iron Hills miners; even for dwarves Dís counted an extraordinary amount of weapons on display. She was not such a fool to mistake a mining tool for harmless. She had seen Bofur wield his mattock with as much grace and deadly intent as Dwalin with his axes, after all, and there was something in the set of their shoulders and the way they watched Narvi that made her wonder if the feud had somehow become public knowledge. She could not imagine how, but if the people knew and were taking Bella’s side the princess would not complain. She was never sure if the dinner had been a success or not, but it did put shimmering facets to a weak stone and the filthy rumors about Bella seemed to lose their fascination for many. The Company met for a private evening two nights later and decided if they kept working together, the balance of power might shift in their favor for the time being, raising toasts to their health before stumbling to bed.

 

Dís woke to frantic knocking at her door and wrapped her heavy robe around her as she went to answer, grabbing a long dagger and reversed the blade against her forearm before answering. Fíli stood there, gasping for breath, unable to speak as he bent over his knees for a moment. There could be only one reason he was here. “It’s begun? Where is she?”

“Hall…of healing!” Fíli straightened and Dís would have laughed at his panic if she didn’t feel some of it herself. Bella had a generous figure, and Óin said her hips should allow for an easy birth, but she was so small and her belly so large that nothing could be for certain. Disregarding her undressed state, Dís grabbed her fur coat and ran after her son, finding Dwalin waiting for them outside the Royal Wing. They had to slow their pace through the tunnels, but they were soon at their destination and found the entirety of the Queen’s Guard outside the doors, searching everyone. Dís surrendered her dagger, but Regin handed it back with a quick bow.

“I trust your protection over the King’s at this moment, Princess. Keep her safe for me.”

“I will, Captain. When we have news I will let you know.” He nodded, face calm but eyes tense. His loyalty to Bella gave Dís hope for the Queen’s future, but right now she had a niece or nephew about to arrive and hurried away to the birthing chamber, past the private chambers and large hall, all empty save for more guards. Dwalin stopped to speak to some of them, checking on their patrols and impressing on them the consequences were they to fail in their duty tonight, his voice echoing down the corridors. Dís did not slow until she could see the door to the birthing chamber, and smiled to find Kíli, bow at the ready and eyes alert, wearing only breeches and boots. “Son, what are you doing? Go find something to put on. Your brother can take your place for now.”

“Uncle kicked my door down and made me escort them here! I was supposed to take my time and pick out a nice outfit?” Kíli’s hair was a tangle and Dís stilled her instinct to take a comb to it. He had not been a child for long years. She left Fíli and Kíli talking quietly about establishing perimeters and getting more of the Company to guard the door. Dís stepped into a world of color, fresh hewn juniper branches along the walls to cover the scent of the still lingering dragon. The murals here were only paint, showing scenes of peaceful grottos and sparkling gems, and Smaug had not touched the beautiful room. Bella would give birth to the first child of new Erebor and Dís had spent long hours overseeing the restoration of the birthing bricks and the bed where the Queen would lay until it was time. Óin was the only healer attending Bella at the moment, and Thorin sat by the Queen’s head, holding her small hand in his and whispering something in her ear. The energy of the room felt calm for now, so Dís poked her head outside to pass on a few last instructions, finding only Fíli waiting.

“I expect you to search everything brought through those doors. Taste the food and water.”

“Kíli is getting water himself, in a jar new made. Keep her safe, _‘amad_.” Fíli saluted his King through the entry; Thorin nodded back as the Prince closed the doors once more. Bella moaned, her other hand clutching the thin shift of blue linen over her belly.

“Dís?”

“I am here, _namadith_.” Dís sat across from her brother, glancing at his face and away. The fear in his eyes did nothing to help her own nerves. “How do you feel?”

“My water broke while I was getting ready to bathe.” She cracked an eye open, her smile wan. “I made such a mess…”

“Hush.” Thorin growled, his hand tightening on his wife’s. “You did not.”

“Thorin carried me here. I think he was more afraid that I was.” She giggled then winced as a contraction hit her. “Óin!”

“Bella, your contractions are long minutes apart. Deep breaths.” Dís smiled.

“When Fíli was born I felt the same way. My Víli paced a rut in the cave waiting.”

“Where is he? I heard his voice, I thought.”

“He guards the doors. Do not worry about anything, my Bella.” Thorin’s head bent over her, listening as she whispered something Dís didn’t understand, but Thorin nodded jerkily. “Of course. Whatever you need.” Bella sat up and swung her legs to the ground, Thorin helping her walk in a slow circle. She nearly crumpled when another contraction hit, but continued to walk, cradling her belly and singing a lilting tune, and Dís finally realized they were hearing her sister’s secret tongue for the first time. Bella must have been teaching Thorin, for he joined her after the second verse, keep his pace slow and his hands on Bella’s shoulders. It was beyond intimate and Dís felt her eyes burning her. She remembered what having such a connection had felt like, still knew, even if her husband’s tomb was far from here and she could not visit. Óin wordlessly handed Dís a small length of thick linen, and she realized she had tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Thank you.”

“It’s an emotional time. I remember when Gimli was born. My brother wept like a child and I will not pretend I was not moved.”

“But this is different.” Dís leaned back in her chair and gave up dignity, wiping her face harshly. “They’ve both…this child is as unlikely as a group of thirteen dwarves and a hobbit defeating a dragon.”

“It’s certainly not something this world has seen for an Age or so. I would expect nothing less of her.” Óin inspected some of his instruments, all of gleaming copper. “I think we’ll need more firewood. I cleaned these already but boiling water has never hurt anyone.”

“I’ll see to it.” Dís left the soft song behind and leaned on the door. Fíli glanced behind him. “We need more firewood. Give some of the guards something to do.”

“A good idea. You look shaken, _‘amad_. Is there…?”

“Nothing wrong. No, I simply remember him too vividly at moments like this and Bella is singing in her own tongue.”

“It’s a very pretty sound, but I can make no sense in it. She talks to her plants and I can’t hear where one word ends and the other begins.” Fíli hefted his twin swords, spinning one idly. “Maybe my cousin will be able to teach me more as he learns.”

“Has she offered you the knowledge?”

“Freely. We are her kin, after all.” Fíli smiled. “I know the word for tree is _crann_. And that each letter is named after a plant or tree of some kind.” Dís realized her son was trying to distract her from her sorrow and squeezed his shoulder before going to give the guards their orders. Regin took charge and Dís tried to reassure him.

“It will be a long time yet, I think. You may want to start shifts.”

“The King’s Guard will be here to relieve us. Captain Dwalin and I worked out a rota, Princess. Never fear.” Dís nodded jerkily and headed back to the room. Bella was on the bed again, begging for water and only being allowed a small sip by Óin. Thorin was rigid in his seat, hands gripping his knees, and his eyes tight. “Bella, tell me of your language. Take your mind off of things.” Dís settled herself back down and listened with interest to the hobbit’s explanation, the soft slurring syllables a marked contrast to the harsh sounds of Khuzdul, and the conversation seemed to help the Queen. Her contractions were growing closer and closer together and finally Óin delicately asked to see how she was progressing. Thorin looked puzzled as Bella gripped his hand as hard as she could, her eyes downcast as she whispered,

“Do you have to?”

“Bella, yes I do. I won’t touch anything, I promise. Unless you’d like Dís to?” Understanding lit Thorin’s face and he kissed Bella’s fingers.

“I’m right here, my Bella. Don’t worry.” Her face twisted, knees pulling together, but another contraction shook her and she let out her breath in a quavering sigh.

“For my baby.” She closed her eyes as she relaxed her knees and Óin pushed her shift up, examining her with a detached air. He quickly withdrew and replaced the blankets, smiling.

“You’re almost ready. We’re going to start the pushing soon and we’ll get you on the bricks.” Bella nodded jerkily and Dís nudged Thorin.

“Brother, she needs to take her mind off of this _now_. Start her on happy memories or stories or…” Someone knocked and Kíli came in with an armful of firewood, beaming as he set it down by the fire.

“Hello, Auntie.” Bella sat up on her elbows as Kíli planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, wrinkling her nose fondly. Dís groaned as her younger son clapped Thorin on the shoulders and danced around her hand as she tried to pull him away from the bed. “The Mountain has ground to a standstill. Everyone’s waiting. Even Roäc is hovering outside the doors.”

“Oh dear.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Kíli grimaced and Dís buried her face in her hands for a moment when Bella’s tone broke through the princess’ annoyance.

“I mean oh dear!” Bella screamed and grabbed her belly with one hand and Kíli’s hand in the other. Her nephew yelped and struggled to get free but Bella’s hand was a vice and Kíli surrendered, carefully patting her shoulder until she released him. “Thorin! Thorin, I can’t. I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can.” Thorin shouldered Kíli aside and the young prince fled, slamming the doors behind him as Thorin grabbed Bella’s hand, pushing her damp braids back from her face. “You are strong and brave and you will be such a mother, _ghivashel._ ”

“I’m scared.” Dís gave Óin a look, silently begging him to administer some kind of medicine to help the Queen, but he shook his head, walking to her side, dropping his voice as best as he could.

“There are too many unknowns. I am not well versed in hobbit medicine and her babe might react badly.” Bella screamed again and Óin rushed back to her side. “Thorin, keep talking to her. Bella, we’re going to get you on the bricks now. It’s time.”

“Is my baby all right?”

“He’s getting ready to meet you.” Óin glanced at Bella’s frightened face. “And Thorin’s going to deliver him. I won’t touch you.” Thorin paled but nodded as Bella turned frantic eyes to him. “We’ll need someone else to help.” Dís shuddered at the thought of most of Bella’s family in the room, but Bella managed to gasp out a name between her next contractions.

“Get him, Dís!” Thorin gripped his sister’s arm, his eyes wild. For a moment, Dís considered following Regin’s example and beating some sense in him but managed to restrain herself, peeling his fingers from her wrist and hurrying to the door.

“Fíli, Kíli, get in here right now.” Both froze as Bella’s scream echoed into the hallway, but their mother grabbed their ears and hustled them inside, ignoring their protests. Óin and Thorin were helping Bella walk the few steps to the bricks and Dís instructed Fíli to help support his aunt, and Kíli to assist Óin. Dís let Bella cling to her hands as she helped the tiny hobbit stay upright on the bricks, Fíli on her other side silent. Thorin knelt at the Queen’s feet, listening to Óin’s terse instructions as a shuddering contraction racked Bella and Thorin gave a cry of triumph. “I can see his head, Bella. Push!” She snarled something at him and Thorin nodded as Bella threw her head back and suddenly a screaming wrinkled child was in Thorin’s arms, covering her father in birth fluid and blood. Thorin cut the cord with the copper knife Óin handed him, Kíli rushing in with damp linens for his cousin. Suddenly Thorin gasped, his hands shaking as he held up the screaming babe. “She’s beautiful, Bella.”

“She?” Dís steadied the panting and crying Queen as everyone froze. “A daughter?”

“Aye, wife. A beautiful daughter.” The princess was cleaned by her father and swaddled by Óin, who checked her over gently, smiling broadly as Thorin turned to help with the afterbirth, and Bella leaned against her family, shuddering gasps shaking her as they listened to the newborn babe wail.

“What does she look like?”

“Like her father.” Óin came over and held out his precious burden for Bella, who started to laugh and cry.

“Oh, she has your nose, Thorin. She’s perfect. And look at her hair!” The little hobbit was trembling and Dís carefully adjusted her grip to give her sister more support as Thorin delivered the afterbirth and fell back to the floor, looking as exhausted as his wife as Bella was carried to bed by Dís as gently as she could manage. Fíli heaved Thorin to his feet, helping the king totter to his wife’s side and Óin placed their daughter between then, turning away to start cleaning, muttering about keeping the child safe. Dís tottered to the door and opened it, finding the rest of the Company guarding them and slipped outside, closing the door firmly. Every one held their breath as their princess began to speak.

“Mother and daughter are both doing well.”

“Daughter?” Balin stepped forward, his eyes wide. “But…”

“I know. We all expected a son. But our Queen has a way of surprising us. When they decide on her names I will let you all know. But let the good news spread throughout the Mountain.” Dís smiled, exhausted and knowing Bella was feeling worse. “I think we’d best get some food for them and then let her rest.”

“Already done.” Bombur produced a basket and grinned, his cheeks suspiciously damp. “All her favorites, that we could find.”

“Bless you.” Dís took the basket and tried to push the door open, but Bifur had to take her arm and help her inside. Bella cracked an eye open and beckoned them both closer.

“I can hear you all out there. You can come in for a few moments and then I’m making you all leave so we can sleep.” Bifur helped Dís to a chair before hesitantly approaching the bed. Thorin sat up, cradling the new princess, his big hands nearly enveloping her. Bifur hesitantly reached out when Óin stopped him.

“Not until you’ve all washed your hands. I’ve plenty of hot water and soap.” Bella laughed as she watched her family gathered around the basin, fighting over the bar of soap until Óin was satisfied. Bifur was first to cradle the babe, whispering an old blessing for children and squeezing Bella’s shoulder before stepping away. Dwalin and Bofur were next, taking their turns with their princess until Dwalin nearly dropped her and Bofur swept in, muttering about clumsy guards under his breath. Thorin retrieved his daughter and Dís could tell he wouldn’t let anyone else take her until Bella reached out, and Thorin cuddled his family as everyone else cooed over mother and child, crowding around the bed. Finally Balin voiced the question no one else was brave enough to ask, cutting through the chatter and leaving breathless anticipation in his wake.

“What’s her outer name to be?”

“We never talked about naming a daughter.” Thorin shrugged helplessly, and Dís knew he was overwhelmed as she had rarely seen him.

“I did.” Bella pulled Thorin’s ear to her lips and the King laughed.

“An excellent choice. My friends, I give you my daughter Bergdís, named for grandmother and aunt. May she carry some of their strength and determination with her always.” Dís swayed in her chair, Kíli rushing to her side, Fíli a step behind him, both beaming as the others cheered and Bergdís wailed. Bella met Dís’ eyes and smiled before taking her daughter and soothing her, while Óin began to shoo everyone out, Fíli and Kíli helping their mother into the hall, both insisting she go back to her rooms, explaining the day had already begun. Bella had labored through the night, and Dís tried to process the passage of so many lost hours, letting her sons support her.

“A daughter.” She whispered. “Oh, Mahal’s hammer, I’m an aunt now!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have based the hobbit’s secret tongue on Gaelic. Since they came from the Gladden Fields, close to the Rohirrim, whose ‘place language’, Tolkien’s conceit as he was ‘translating’ the Red Book of Westmarch into our understanding, is based on Old English I thought it made sense. It’s also a marked contrasted to the Semitic language basis for Khuzdul. 
> 
> And hooray! Baby! Finally.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erebor celebrates the birth of a princess and Bofur makes a startling discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting into the rhythm of this story after my honeymoon took a while, but I think I'm back in my groove. Thank you all so much for your continued support and comments, they mean so much to me and inspire me every day.
> 
> Also, there is an explicit scene towards the end. :)

Bofur glanced up from his papers and met Dís’ piercing gaze across the table. “I wish I knew more about the process. What I can do is inspect the raw ore before it makes its way to the converters. Have you thought about posting guards?”

“I can’t trust all of them.” Dís sighed. “And the ones we can trust have more important duties.” Bofur shrugged, pushing his hat back into place.

“Then we’re on the defensive, as always.”

“I know.” Dís growled and slammed her hand on the table, glaring down at the reports of more tools failing in the workshops. “Thank you for your help, miner.” Bofur didn’t try and hide his smile; the Princess’ habit of calling everyone by occupation had taken some getting used to, but he enjoyed it now. “Now, about tonight. You’re going to be in the front row on the aisle to the left hand of Mahal. I’m placing Narvi close enough to you so you and Dwalin can keep an eye on him.”

“Of course.” Bofur closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake off his headache. “It’s going to be another long one, isn’t it?”

“When are they ever short?” Dís smiled, leaning her head on her hand. “Little Bergdís has lungs like a bellows. I’ve been taking her so Bella can sleep. She’s so tiny compared to Fíli and Kíli at that age, but she’s wiggly. Can’t take my eyes off of her for a second.”

“Hobbits are flightly little creatures at times.” Bofur looked up at the ceiling, smiling as he thought back to simpler times. “I’ll never forget watching Bella climbing around Erebor when we first got here. Nearly killed Thorin. She would scale the walls and just sit up there and he would hover below, pretending to be doing anything but watching her.” Dís made a disgusted noise, but her smile became soft. “We all did, really. At that point she had saved us three or four times.”

“One of the greatest Queens we’ve ever had the honor to serve.” Dís shuffled her papers together. “I imagine we’ll be taking some of tomorrow off, but I’ll see you at some point and let you know what I find.”

“I appreciate it.” Bofur yawned. “I never imagined being a Lord was this tiring.”

“What did you think it was? Of course, the only real Lords we had in the Blue Mountains were Narvi and Gróin, and only Gróin did anything for us.”

“Well, it’s still better than mining for iron for humans.” Bofur stood and walked with Dís out into the corridor, where they parted ways, Dís heading for the throne room and Bofur for the mines. He melted into a crowd of miners and listened to them talk.

“I heard the princess is the portrait of her father. Barely a sign of being half hobbit.” A short miner, pick hung over his shoulder, spoke loudly, but his towering companion slowed before Bofur could object to the tone referring to the Queen.

“We’re more than blessed to have another daughter of Durin’s line, and her mother is a hero, no matter her blood.”

“I meant no disrespect to _Muhudinh_!” The first speaker scowled, beard bristling. “I find it remarkable, is all, and wish to see for myself. Anyone would be blessed to have her beauty.”

“Then I will stand with you tonight in Mahal’s presence and we’ll see if the rumors prove true.” Bofur hid his smile as he walked towards the entrance to the sixth mine. Tonight, Bergdís was to be presented in the temple to her kingdom. And after his duties down here, Bella had asked him to visit her in her quarters. Even now Bofur felt a twinge of mingled regret and relief that she had not accepted his offer so long ago, but he valued her friendship above all and he and Dwalin were much better suited to the other.

All happy thoughts of Bella and her daughter disappeared as he got closer to the entrance to mine shaft three, and something tickled his nose. “What is that?” He touched his mattock and sent a quick prayer to Mahal before stepping under the first supports, touching the walls and sniffing again. “That shouldn’t be here.” It was tickling his sinuses as he made his way down the sloping path towards the first elevator, not seeing any of the others, and he made the short ride down with a sinking feeling in his gut. Once the door opened the smell was stronger, but he could hear the steady rhythm of rock meeting pickax and his heart rate slowed even as he sped along the sloping tunnel. “Stop!” The shift leader glanced around in surprise, her initial annoyance replaced instantly once the light of recognition had dawned. “Can’t you smell that?”

“The stone rot? Of course.” She shrugged, her forehead wrinkling as she straightened. “It’s a constant right now. We’re taking precautions.”

“I could smell it from the entrance. I think the levels are getting too high. Come on. We can start again tomorrow.” She hesitated. In any other circumstance, a Broadbeam wouldn’t dare talk like this, but Bofur was who he was and she bowed her head. As the miners cleared out, they nodded to him as he prepared to block the entrance, their faces carefully neutral but their eyes showing relief. “Have a round on me, lads. _Queen’s Grace_ , near the main Market. Tell them a little bird sent you.” The miners nodded again, tension bleeding from their shoulders, but Bofur asked their supervisor to stay. The stone rot was still in the air and she blanched.

“I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad. The cave crickets were still alive.”

“Now that should not be possible.” Bofur reared back, blinking furiously, but his anger at taking unnecessary risks with the lives of the workers faded as she unhooked a small cage from her belt. And indeed, the cricket seemed lively, antennae twitching. “I raise my own. I’ll get you some for the next shift, all right? Where did you get this?”

“From the stores. Just like normal.” She took a deep breath. “Am I going to be demoted?”

“For faulty equipment? Of course not. But next time, listen to your workers as well as the cricket.” She nodded. “And my offer stands to you as well. See you tomorrow.” Bofur felt his smile fade as she strode away, and he held the strange bug in front of him again. It looked normal, but after his talk with Dís he was suspicious of everything, and it looked like her thoughts were correct. Someone was trying to harm them by causing accidents, and if anything went wrong now, faith in the King and Queen would be shaken. He finished the rest of his inspection rounds without finding anything beyond some old pickaxes being used that were easily replaced, and he went back to his quarters to bathe and change, vaguely hoping Dwalin might be in their home, but the large rooms were empty. Bofur found his Court robes had been left on the bed in anticipation of the ceremony tonight, but he ignored them for now, digging for some of his clean work clothes in one of the chests lining their bedchamber. Hoping to shed some of his tension, he went into the bath with pleasure, still unable to believe that he had a private bath, reluctantly rising from the steaming water to dry off and change. Deftly snagging his hat once more, the miner made the short journey towards the Royal Wing, humming a bawdy tune that had made Dori leave the tavern last time he had heard it, nodding to Regin as he finally reached the King and Queen’s rooms. The guard didn’t react beyond a brief acknowledgement, but he pushed open the door for Bofur.

Bella was moving around the main chamber of her quarters, cooing to Bergdís and laying kisses on her daughter’s face, whispering endearments in Khuzdul. Bofur grinned as he leaned on the door, watching the very domestic scene as the little hobbit danced around over the carpets until she saw her audience and blushed as she walked over towards him. “You’re surprisingly quiet for a dwarf, Bofur.”

“And you’ve more important things than me to think about right now.” Bofur hugged her and Bergdís gently, grinning as the babe latched onto his braids with a gurgle that sounded like a laugh. Bella smirked as Bofur tried to untangle the chubby little fingers from his hair.

“She’s got her father’s strength already. Tea?”

“I’ll make it.” Bofur gave up and knelt to allow Bella to free him and go back to her armchair, finding the kettle easily and putting it on the hob as he turned the intricate shelves Thorin had carved under the windows, picking a canister at random and hoping it would be one she liked. Bofur turned in time to watch Bergdís spit up all over Bella’s lap, the hobbit failing to move the length of toweling on her shoulder into place to save her dress. Her eyes went wide then she started to laugh as she dabbed at her daughter’s face, shaking her head as she stood.

“That’s the third time today. Can you hold her while I go change again?”

“Of course!” Bofur reached out and cradled the princess to his chest, snatching two potholders from the stove as a precaution. Bergdís felt so tiny in his hands, but she gurgled happily and waved her fists in the air, staring into his eyes intently. “Hello there, princess.”

“Where is Ori when you need him?” Bofur spun, his hands tightening on his precious burden as he confronted Dori. “That’s the prettiest picture I’ve seen all day.”

“So funny, Dori. Here, you can hold her. Bella’s tea is almost ready.” Dori’s face melted into a smile as he cradled the princess, and Bofur smirked. “Ori could draw you too, you know.”

“Hush.” Dori cooed at Bergdís, wrinkling his nose at Bofur. “I remember when Ori was this small. Little squalling thing, but we were on the road and it was to me to take care of him.”

“On the way to the Blue Mountains?”

“Aye.” Dori sat and watched Bofur making the tea. “Poor wee thing. It was so cold.” Bofur watched his friend’s eyes go distant for a moment, and wondered what the Longbeards had suffered on that long journey. He had already been in the Blue Mountains, learning his trade at his father’s side, thinking his life would be a quiet one like his forefather’s. And why they cared so much for their children, even for dwarves.

“She’s going to get spoiled rotten, isn’t she?” Bofur laughed. “You Longbeards and your babies.”

“No, she’s not.” Dori expertly rocked her back and forth, making faces at her as Bergdís gurgled and waved her fists. “She’ll be watched very carefully, and she’ll want for nothing, but Thorin will make sure she’s fit to rule.”

“She’ll make a fine leader.” Bofur poured the tea as Bella came back in, tugging on her shirt and brushing at some very familiar trousers. Bofur got her settled before handing her tea and sitting across from her. He whipped out his pipe but she shook her head, nodding to her child.

“Not around her. The elves said the smoke can be bad for the babe and I’m inclined to listen to them in this only.”

“A shame. But for my princess, I will obey.” Bergdís, unaware of the fond regard of the three adults, fell asleep against Dori’s shoulder and the graying dwarf started to hum a lullaby until she breathed deeply against his shoulder.

“She’ll want a long nap today for the ceremony, yes?”

“I’m nervous.” Bella looked down at her tea and sipped, the beautiful mug shaking against her lips until she steadied herself. “Thorin chose most of her name but I wanted something of my people, and for all I think it’s the only name she could have I worry.”

“If Narvi dares lift his head in the temple An herself will remove it.” Bella covered her mouth, eyes wide and Bofur smirked at a sputtering Dori, torn between keeping Bergdís sleeping and defending the High Priestess’ honor.

“She would properly wait until we were outside the sacred space. And then she’d do worse than remove his head.” Bella laughed again, her eyes crinkling closed.

“You’re both awful. I’ll have to work hard not to laugh tonight now!” She tossed her single plait over her shoulder, sighing. “Anyway, Bofur, I know the dwarves don’t have this tradition, but I’d like you to be Bergdís’ godfather.”

“I’d be more than honored, Bella.” Bofur grinned and bowed from where he sat. “Is it difficult?” She snorted and retrieved her baby from Dori, cuddling her sleeping daughter to her neck.

“If you consider giving presents difficult, then yes.” They sat for a time, talking about children until Regin knocked at the door and cleared his throat, bending his head over his axe.

“Majesty, you asked to be reminded two hours before the presentation.”

“How is it two hours already?” Bella pouted. “I wanted more time with you both, but I’m going to have to get started. Is the Lady Dís in her chambers?”

“I will send a runner to find her immediately.” Bella stood and gestured to her friends.

“I wanted to show you something, but it will have to be quick, I’m afraid.” Curious, Bofur followed her through the passageway to the reading cave he had helped carve out for her. She had added her own touches; a pile of pillows on the ground on top of the rugs made a nest and the stacks of books had nearly doubled. Dori glanced around then his head swung back to a particular pile.

“Ori said someone had taken all of the journals from the first settlement of Erebor! You know how that upsets him, Bella.”

“He wouldn’t let me have them.” Bella sniffed. “But amazingly, ravens can read.” Bofur doubled over laughing at the pure offense on Dori’s face and tried to stop as Bergdís stirred, but couldn’t until he ran out of breath. Bella joined him, sitting down on the pillows as Dori swooped in to save his princess, shaking his head at them both. Bofur finally gained control of himself, wiping at his eyes and leaning against the painted wall, admiring how Bella had turned her little room into a hobbit dwelling.

“What was it, sister mine?”

“This.” Bella finished digging in a stack of books and held up a plain black journal. “I can’t read it. Neither can Ori. He said you might be able to, Bofur.”

“Me?” Bofur snorted, but accepted the thin volume and carefully opened it to the frontispiece, noting the smell of old parchment mixed with something familiar he couldn’t place. “Well…it’s a variation of Khuzdul. Broadbeam. How under Eru’s blessed eye did the Longbeards acquire this? It’s code we developed to pass messages back and forth.”

“Can you decipher it?” Bofur hesitated, but he had thrown in his lot with Thorin’s folk for too long now to be precious about long forgotten secrets.

“Yes. It might take some time, but with Bifur’s help I think I can.” He tucked it away in his jacket and kissed Bella on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, sister.” He and Dori left, silent until they were out of range from her rooms to start talking.

“You agreed?”

“What can I say? The Longbeards gave me everything. Bombur has renown as head cook in the kitchens, my brother is safe and tended to and can do whatever he wishes, and I have more power than any Broadbeam has dreamt of. And besides, it might just be a dusty old journal.”

“Hmm.” Dori sniffed. “I would think you have more to worry about. I looked at some of the steel Dís gave me, and whoever is targeting us is a master at their craft.”

“Ah, that reminds me. I have a strange cricket in my rooms. Didn’t react properly to the stone rot.”

“I am no expert with animals, only metal. I will ask around. Discreetly, of course. I’ll hide it in my workshop. Few take me seriously, and I doubt our enemies would think to search there.” Bofur glanced at Dori, taking in his elaborate braids and fine clothes; even now, coming from work, the son of Austri rivaled the Queen in dress.

“Only those who have not seen you on the battlefield, my friend. Dwalin should be home now. I’ll just be a moment.” Bofur ducked inside his room and saw weapons strewn across the floor, rolling his eyes as he picked his way to the table where his own gear lay neatly. The cricket was dead. Cursing, Bofur found Dori waiting in the hall, examining his fingernails, the very image of a useless courtier. Belied when the door swung open and a dagger slid from a lacy sleeve and disappeared fast enough to avoid all but the fastest eye. Bofur handed over the cage and Dori shook his head in disappointment.

“Dead? Still, it should have died hours ago.” Suddenly Dori stepped back and raised his voice. “I will see you at the temple. Make sure that hulking thing in your bath reflects well on our house, yes?” Dori swept off clutching the cage and Bofur stared after him, stunned. But then he saw Sognir at the nearest corridor junction and understood, hardening his face into a scowl as he closed the door. Any sign of discord they could foster would only distract, and while it twisted Bofur’s stomach, he had helped come up with the plan and closed and barred his door with relief, sinking down to a nearby bench as his knees shook.

“Bofur, why are you slamming the doors?”

“Trying to convince Sognir that Dori and I were fighting.” Bofur looked up and couldn’t stop his leer as Dwalin emerged from the bathing chamber naked, rubbing a towel over his arms. The tall warrior grinned and turned, posing in the doorframe as Bofur leaned against the wall and enjoyed the view until he heard a gong ringing, muffled by wood and stone, but clear enough. Dwalin sighed and threw the towel back into the bathing chamber and Bofur tsked his tongue. “We talked about this, _ghivashel_. Must I twist your beard again?”

“If you want to.” Dwalin went to his chest of clothes and started pulling out under tunics while Bofur went to the bed, stripping quickly when warm arms wrapped around his waist and Dwalin kissed the side of his neck, growling softly. “When did you get so domestic, my darling?”

“Since I’ve had the same bedroom for a year.” Bofur leaned back into Dwalin’s chest for a moment, letting the larger dwarf support his weight. “Come on, we can’t be late. You’ve got a King to guard and I have to keep an eye on Narvi tonight.”

“Spoilsport.” Bofur turned and tweaked Dwalin’s nose with his most mischievous grin, watching his lover’s eyes go dark with desire.

“If you’re very good tonight I’ll teach you a new trick.”

“How good?” Dwalin smirked, but Bofur could see the tell tale signs of interest and simply smiled before pulling on his robes and tying his sash.

“We’ll just have to find out.” Laughing, they helped the other arm themselves, with matching axes since it was a ceremonial occasion, one of the first in the newly restored temple, and Dwalin easily snagged Bofur’s hat from the dresser and arranged it over his braids, cupping his face and planting a soft kiss to the corner of the miner’s mouth before stepping back and beaming.

“I am honored to have you at my side tonight. I must walk with Thorin but I will find you.”

“I could ask for nothing else.” Bofur ran the back of his finger down Dwalin’s face and went in for one last kiss before reluctantly drawing away and assuming his mask. “Lead on.” They joined the trickle of nobles heading for the temple, Dwalin breaking away to join Thorin and Bofur stepping through the huge doors with a sense of awe. The walls had been left raw, the small veins of quartz and gold lit by lanterns form the ceiling, but his eyes went to the towering carving of Mahal, his hammer held in his right hand and his left held up, palm facing towards the doors. “Well done, cousin.” Bofur looked around for Bifur, finding him sitting in the first row, carving a small block of wood and hurried over to express his admiration. Bifur waved off the praise, staring up at their Maker’s likeness.

“It took no great skill to copy the mural from the Blue Mountains, Bofur.”

“I won’t let you do this again, cousin. You translated it from a flat surface to a fully realized statue, and he looks pleased.” Bifur smiled shyly and finally accepted Bofur’s praise, and as the temple filled they sat in silence until An, her stiff headdress glittering under the enormous lanterns of mithril and diamond, entered from the sanctuary and the service began. Bofur bowed his head as she invoked the Valar, but out of the corner of his eye, watched Narvi as they listened to the prayer to Mahal, the new verse about Yavanna’s grace a clear endorsement of the Queen’s presence and the new princess. Voices raised in song, one of thanks and, poignantly to Bofur’s mind, questions. The Longbeards had always emphasized Durin’s position, and to that aim, had minimized Mahal’s agreement to destroy them.

The Broadbeams had not forgotten that only through Eru Ilúvatar’s grace were the dwarves allowed to exist, and listening to the Father of All’s name ring out over the gathering was sweet. As the echoes continued the last refrain, the doors opened again and the King and Queen entered, flanked by their guards. Tonight, Bella’s beauty was magnified. She wore a dress of blue velvet embroidered with scrolling silver flowers, and her skirt hid her feet as the train dragged behind her. Bofur tried to hide his smile as he stood with the rest of the gathering. No doubt the elaborate slippers he had seen in her rooms were still there. Her crown glowed tonight, but her face outshone everything as she stared down at the precious bundle in her arms.

A chubby hand shot out and clung to one of Bella’s temple braids, and the procession slowed as Thorin easily freed his wife, the tender smile on the King’s face rendering him unfamiliar for a moment. When they reached the anvil of mithril they set Bergdís in the basket An had lined with a blanket and stood to the side as the traditional blessings were sung. Dwalin sniffled as he left the procession and Bofur reached down to squeeze his lover’s hand, their fingers interlacing as the ceremony continued, both raising their voices to greet the new life into the world. Finally Bella and Thorin were placed on either side of their daughter, repeating the vows to guide and love her, to support and defend until she was grown and ready to care for herself. Bofur wiped at his cheeks when they were finished, heard muffled sobs coming from different parts of the crowd, some close enough to be from the Company. Indeed, Dori’s cheeks were shining and Bifur’s face was buried in a handkerchief. Even Kíli the irrepressible was clinging to Dís’ hand and his shoulders were shaking. Finally, An recited the final challenge. “And what shall her name be, never to be recorded but in the memory of her people? Her Maker will hear it and it shall be both a reminder of her past and hope for the future.” Bella stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her, but her voice was steady as she answered.

“Let her be known as _Tharku de Dair Nahubu Abadel_ to the children of Mahal. _Tharku_ for strength. _de Dair_ so that she will not forget her mother’s people, and remember her father’s courage. _Nahubu Abadel_ for her ancestral home, once lost and now reclaimed.” Bofur brought his sleeve to his cheek, listening to the surprised whispers rising from the gathering, as Thorin beamed and drew his tiny wife into a deep kiss before he scooped his child into his arms, holding her up so all could see her. An beamed and raised her voice once more.

“A strong name, worthy of a heir of Durin and firstborn to the King. Welcome, _Tharku de Dair Nahubu Abadel_!” It would be the last time until her coming of age any would speak her true name again, but all would remember. Thorin held up his hand and the cheers subsided just enough that his booming voice could be heard.

“A gift, in honor of our princess, awaits in the Dining Hall. We invite you to celebrate her arrival with us tonight.” Genuinely surprised, Bofur followed Dwalin as they fell into the procession led by the High Priestess and her acolytes, but he turned his head and saw Narvi slipping a white piece of paper into his sash, eyes murderous as he glared at the retreating Queen. Bofur itched to tell Nori to try and grab the paper, but even the poacher’s clever fingers might find such a task difficult. Once the celebrants had gathered in the dining hall, they found a feast waiting for them, and Bofur raised his eyebrows at a chortling Bombur, who shared a conspiratorial nod with the King before the toasts to Bergdís began. Dwalin shook his head when Bofur raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me. I’ve no idea how he could have gotten so much food without tipping his hand.”

“It was easy, cousin.” Thorin had his daughter in his arms, her eyes wide and mouth parted as she stared at the riotous dance below, but the King leaned forward, dropping his voice. “I let the King of Rohan and the Steward of Gondor know the good news some months back and this is their gift to Erebor. They wish to see quality armor and weapons once more, and their fields are fertile.”

“Well done indeed. And that the kingdom knows this generosity is from your hand alone didn't hurt, did it?”

“Let them thank my daughter.” Thorin kissed the top of her downy head and Bofur felt his throat constrict as the babe’s face crumpled and she whimpered, fists thrashing. Bella swooped in, but then paused and blushed furiously, hiding her face behind her hand before whispering in Thorin’s ear. He looked surprised but nodded, and dropped his hands to his waist, untying his wide sash of blue velvet and arranging it around wife and daughter both. Finally recognizing Bella’s body shyness, the rest of the table turned their attention from her as she fed her child, but Dori looked as if he were on the verge of tears once more and Dís was smiling at her children fondly, eyes distant. Dwalin sighed happily, taking Bofur’s hand and drawing the miner’s attention.

“A good night.”

“I can hardly remember one better.”

“Oh, I can a few.”

“I’d wager you could, brother.” Balin winked from across the table and Bofur watched his lover’s bald pate redden. “But this is a time for fond remembrances, not exploits.”

“Is that what they call them now?” Nori smirked from down the table. “You’ve grown prim, Balin.” Bofur watched his family descend once more into trading barbs, but while he laughed at some of the choicer jabs, he kept his eyes on the room. The dead cricket and failing steel had him more on edge than he wanted to be, and when Bella and Thorin left because Bergdís had fallen asleep, he used the excuse of Dwalin leaving to make his own departure. Thorin waved them off, saying Regin and the rest of the Queen’s Guard were enough protection, and Dwalin took advantage, kissing Bergdís goodnight before tugging Bofur back to their rooms and closed the door with enough force to shake one of the swords from the wall.

Bofur fell into Dwalin’s strong arms and let the tension of being in a court of Longbeards drained away from the miner. “Your clan is so strange, Dwalin. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I sighed up for this nonsense of a quest.”

“You were thinking it was time for your family to have a good life for once.”

“That’s fair.” Bofur sighed again. “What does a godfather _do_ , anyway?” Bella had announced to the Company during dinner of the appointment and while everyone had hidden their confusion, Bofur definitely needed to get a few guidelines from her before everyone else demanded an explanation.

“Don’t ask me about hobbit customs!” Dwalin laughed as he easily carried Bofur to their bed. Bofur threw his arms behind his back and watched as his strong lover started to disarm himself. It was a sight that never failed to arouse him and Dwalin knew it, tonight going slow enough to make the process near torturous. “You remember the first night I asked after your company?”

“Asked?” Bofur snorted. “You moved my bedroll and all my possessions!” Dwalin chuckled, a dark insinuation in his tone, before he went into the next room for a moment. Bofur closed his eyes and remembered that first night with a fond smile on his face.

 

_Bofur was shaken as he left Bella to herself. He had heard tales, clearly exaggerated, that hobbits were feisty little things. Traveling smiths and tinkerers often returned to the Blue Mountains with stories of friendly barmen or farmer’s daughters all too willing to spend a happy night or two with a mysterious stranger. But Bella was none of those. He should have thought on her refined little home and fussy manners longer before leaping to conclusions, and he sat in silence by the fire for long minute before Dwalin was suddenly at his side, quiet until Bofur acknowledged him with a brief nod. “If it means anything, her refusal had nothing to do with your own attractiveness.” Bofur had not been expecting that, especially from a cousin to the King, and he glanced up into Dwalin’s smile with his own._

_“Such a thing never crossed my mind.” Bofur kept his tone light, unsure how familiar the large warrior would allow him to be. “If even you can see it, after all, it must be true.” Dwalin laughed quietly; emboldened, Bofur pushed his hat back on his head, racking his brain for something else to say when the Warg’s howl sounded over them all and they were both on their feet, weapons drawn, before the princes’ unbecoming teasing sent Thorin into a rage and the camp to their sleeping rolls. And Bofur found his had been moved. Dwalin had the watch, but their rolls lay together now, and Bofur froze before hesitantly preparing for sleep and leaving his mattock close to hand. It mattered not they had not even touched. Such a bold invitation meant Dwalin was absolutely serious. Well. If that’s how the warrior wanted to play, Bofur was more than ready._

 

“Are you asleep already?” Dwalin fell to the mattress, strong arms drawing Bofur into a bare chest. They kissed before Dwalin set to work on disrobing the smaller dwarf, his touch gentle, and they were soon bare and lay on top of the blankets,

“Simply remembering.” Bofur opened his eyes and pushed Dwalin to his back. “I think you were very good tonight, my warrior.”

“Was I?” Dwalin rested his hands on Bofur’s hips, smile flashing in the low light. “And what trick have you been withholding from me, my love?”

“This one.” Bofur kissed Dwalin deeply as his hand snuck down to cup his heavy sac, listening to his lover’s breath hiss out in surprise with a smile. “Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

“That I could do all day.” Bofur chuckled as he transferred his grasp to Dwalin’s cock, playing with the piercing with his thumb and electing a deep moan. “You tease! That’s not a trick…” Bofur changed the angle of his touch and Dwalin gasped, his hands digging into Bofur’s back as the warrior writhed, his voice breaking as he begged for more. Bofur kept his pace slow, keeping Dwalin on the edge of release for long minutes, laying kisses on neck and chest until Dwalin was unable to speak, his breathing heavy and his body relaxing into Bofur’s continuous touch. The pace was a marked change for them; usually Bofur couldn’t move fast enough to take his lover, but Dwalin’s trust in him made Bofur tender tonight. His own cock was twitching, but he ignored his own need to focus totally on Dwalin’s pleasure, waiting for his breathing to get deeper before increasing the pace. Dwalin whispered Bofur’s name, opening his eyes to beg silently for release, but Bofur covered his lips, letting Dwalin’s soft beard scratch at his cheeks before breaking away and kissing the warrior’s eyes closed.

“Surrender, Dwalin.”

“I have.”

“Not yet.” Bofur changed the angle of his touch and Dwalin’s hips snapped up into Bofur’s legs, wordlessly crying his pleasure until Bofur decided to take pity and finally allowed Dwalin to reach his peak, leaving them both panting and boneless until Bofur stumbled to the bathroom to grab a towel for them, finding Dwalin sprawled over the bed where he had left him, his chest rising and falling slowly.

“That’s quite the trick, _ghivashel_.”

“I’ll build up your endurance and tease you for hours.” Dwalin growled as Bofur wiped the spattered seed from Dwalin’s hairy stomach, feathering kisses on his warm skin as Dwalin groaned.

“Hours? You’re trying to kill me. It’s the only explanation.”

“You could always try it on me.”

“You’re too gorgeous. I can’t restrain myself.” Dwalin grinned and tugged on one of Bofur’s braids. “I thought you liked it.”

“Typical guard.” Bofur kissed Dwalin, using his teeth, and laughed as Dwalin surged upwards, pinning him to the bed and biting his neck, but the bigger dwarf collapsed after a moment, groaning.

“I can barely move, you evil dwarf. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“I await it eagerly.” Bofur managed to get Dwalin under the blankets, submitting to being cuddled and pinned under one of Dwalin’s hairy legs, and drifted off to sleep listening to his lover’s snores with a smile.

 

The next morning, as Dwalin slumbered, Bofur went to his desk and saw the journal Bella had pressed on him. With a shrug, he sat and found a sheaf of blank parchment in one of the drawers, and pulled his writing set close and lit two candles before sipping his tea and bending his head over his work, writing the translation into plain runes easily. It was not a complicated cipher, but relied on the other clan’s reluctance to change the sacred language of their Maker. It was a simple account at first, of a long journey, and Bofur stopped paying attention to the meaning of the paragraphs for a time until a word appeared that caused him to blot half the page with ink. Shaking, he started anew and redid his words, concentrating on each letter. “It can’t be.” He hurried to finish, now, racing over the paper and turning each page with a trembling hand. An hour later, Bofur finished his translation and set down his pen, his stomach tight and his throat itching. He could barely imagine Thorin’s reaction, and showing it to Bella was unthinkable. That left only one solution. Heart racing, Bofur gathered his things and set off for the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tharku de Dair Nahubu Abadel – the pillar of oak to support the mountain of all mountains. de Dair is Gaelic for ‘of oak’, the rest is Khuzdul. I love languages.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori and Nori see different sides of the growing crisis Erebor faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe major thanks to [My Angel of Dreams](http://archiveofourown.org/users/My0Angel0of0Dreams) for being a wonderful consulting beta. And to the rest of you for being so patient with me.

The great Library of Erebor moved at a slower pace than the rest of the Mountain. Voices were hushed, and the tools of the craftsmen created small sounds that only made Ori more aware of the silence as he locked the door of the Gondor room behind him, tucking the key away in his sash with trembling fingers. The work Thorin had asked him to undertake was becoming more and more difficult, and he needed to breath cold air before diving back into repairing and reading the old archives. As he walked along the quiet hall towards the great collection of works, Ori tried to stretch his neck and sighed deeply, bringing in the comforting smell of paper and ink and wondered if the dragon’s stench was finally fading when indistinct shouting reached him. Hand going to sword, Ori strode out in the vaulted hall intending on showing the intruder what happened when the peace of the Library was disturbed when Bofur’s voice reached him. “Listen, this is bloody important, Mahal take you! Let me see him!”

“He’s working in a closed room, Lord Bofur.” Ori rounded the corner and saw three of his clerks trying to hold his friend back and losing, their robes mussed and beards ruffled, while Bofur struggled forward.

“It’s fine, please let him go.” The clerks dispersed and Bofur brushed off his jacket, straightening his hat and waving a sheaf of crumpled papers and a journal at Ori.

“We need privacy, now.” Ori had never heard Bofur take that tone and turned to lead the way to his tiny office. He barred the door and offered his friend a seat, but Bofur was too agitated, and began pacing back and forth. “Did you have any idea what this was when you passed it to Bella?” The old Broadbeam journal slapped to the polished granite and Ori jumped, trying to meet Bofur’s eyes and failing.

“Just a journal I couldn’t read, Bofur.” But his words sounded unconvincing and Bofur snorted.

“What is Thorin having you do? I’ve seen you two whispering at dinners, and someone saw you in his forge. You’re no smith, Ori.” Ori’s heart froze and he struggled to hold his composure, grabbing onto the edges of his sleeves and worrying at the heavy wool.

“I can’t tell you.” Shuffling through the papers, Bofur smoothed down a page and cleared his throat before fixing Ori with a glare.

“And the Enemy made a ring in secret to corrupt the other rings. It was a simple band of gold, but it contained great power.” Ori gaped, his heart racing in his ears, as Bofur continued unrelenting. “What happened to this weapon, none of us know, save that it was not destroyed.”

“No.” Ori stumbled to his chair, his hands shaking as Bofur glared at him.

“Are you trying to find out if Bella’s ring and the _Ruthukhmizim_ are one and the same?” It took several moments for Ori to catch his breath, almost grateful he could tell someone else what he had been doing the last months.

“Yes.”

“Why haven’t you told her? Don’t you think she should know?”

“Thorin forbid me! He will not…”

“He is lying to her!”

“And what would you have us say? We will take this thing from you no matter what you want? Can you imagine?” Ori growled. “She is my friend and Queen, Bofur. I will not.” Anger filled him and he stood. “I was simply being thorough by sending that to you, because I hoped you would trust us with a translation. I did not think it would touch on my research!” Silence followed his words, and both dwarves took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do, Bofur. This isn’t proof, not really. I don’t know how to prove one way or another if it is the Ring of the Enemy. I must continue my work.”

“There is only one thing we can do, Ori.” Their eyes met across the desk. “We must find Gandalf.” Feeling as though he had been punched, Ori nodded.

“Agreed. Easier said than done, though. He is an endless wanderer.”

“Remember that strange wizard? The one with the bird nest in his hair?” Bofur raised his eyebrow. “That smelled so…well, him.”

“Radagast? Of course. He is still in Mirkwood, now that the Necromancer has been driven away.” Some of the tension in the room drained away as Ori smiled.

“I’m sure Raka could find him. And they must have a way of sending messages to each other, wouldn’t you think?”

“Not sure I would put all my ore in that cart, Bofur, but it’s worth a try. And perhaps Lord Elrond?”

“Yes. If Gandalf is in the west, surely he must pass through Rivendell.”

“Who else can we trust?” Ori stared up at the ceiling, screwing his eyes shut for a moment as Bofur sighed.

“No one. If word spreads that there is even a chance she has such a thing, she would become a target for more than petty nobles with a grudge.”

“You’re right. And that means you can’t tell Dwalin. I’ve been struggling to keep this from Nori and Dwalin is too close to Thorin.”

“I don’t like keeping secrets from him.” But Bofur swallowed heavily and nodded. “We have to keep her safe. And let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help. Here’s the translation, but do me a favor, Ori. Rewrite it and destroy my original?”

“You think your clan would punish you for this?”

“Only if they find out, Ori.” Bofur laughed unsteadily. “And unless you’re planning on making a Broadbeam your most trusted clerk, I doubt they will.”

“Never.” Ori leaned forward, putting his hand on Bofur’s arm for a moment. “Thank you for trusting me. With all of this.”

“Not much choice. But we will keep her safe.” Bofur left and Ori locked the door, heart hammering in his ears. The small mention of the appearance of the dreaded Ring was the best clue he had found. None of the other histories he had dug through had thought to describe it, and he had been picturing something like the rings the seven dwarf lords had been gifted with; beautiful, powerful artifacts that had made them wealthy and secretive. Knowing that Thráin had carried the last one with him raised an intriguing thought. She had found it in the Misty Mountains. The last ring of the Dwarves had disappeared near Mirkwood. There was not mere coincidence. Finally given another direction, Ori locked his office and rushed away to the Gondor records once more, too intent on his destination to see the shadow flit away into the stacks of the Library.

 

Nori watched Bofur disappear into Erebor and shook his head in wonder. His little brother had kept this secret for months, even from him! It was enough to bring a tear to his eye. Ghosting from his listening post, the poacher found himself with a dilemma. He could not tell Dís; he agreed with Ori and Bofur that there was nothing but unsubstantiated guesses, and he was one too many holders of such a secret. The Wizards ought to be trusted, but Nori could not shake the memory of how Saruman had been against their quest for Erebor. He might have to tamper with the messages his little brother sent out, and make it a general plea for Gandalf’s counsel. Meanwhile, he had plans to meet with a few of the off-duty guards for a pint and a bit of a gossip. He had a few rumors he wanted circulated, and he had yet to discover a better conduit than a pint and a whispered story. The _Queen’s Grace_ was his favorite place, as the brewmaster made a particularly hearty concoction that Bella had helped him with, and despite the other stories Nori had heard, was the true origin of the pub’s name.

After some debate, he decided a less public venue might be better and headed for one of the lower squares and the _Miner’s Delight_ , where a good game of dice was always in the offing and the loud music covered any number of conversations. But he had barely escaped the library when he heard footsteps and cursed even as he forced his face into a pleasant smile even as he turned. And it was exactly who he didn’t want to see. Aurvang was still the one noble he couldn’t understand; her motives were entirely unclear, and she supported all factions at the most random of times. She had upset his plans more than once, and made two of them succeed beyond all expectation. “Nori.”

“That’s Lord Nori, my Lady.” Sniffing, Nori tossed his head and checked that all his knives were in place. She wouldn’t go for him herself, but Aurvang had a large retinue, though she was alone now. There were five shadows that could contain a crossbow pointed at his heart, and the current mood of the Court was such Nori couldn’t blame her for hiding assurances.

“My apologizes. The habit of long years.” She waved her hand along the hallway, her eyes cold, and Nori accepted the silent invitation to walk back towards the bustling corridors. But he could not resist the opening she had left him.

“Can always be changed, if the heart is in the right place. I am very busy.”

“I need you to keep your position in Court, my Lord. It is annoying to have to find you, especially down here.”

“The library is one of the treasures of Erebor. I think you know the King’s stance on preserving the knowledge of our people.”

“And the Queen?”

“Had been down here to help repair some of the scrolls before she was even crowned.”

“I did not know that. I want an invitation to the High Table, Nori. You owe me.”

“For what?” Laughing, he stopped and reached out his open hand, breathing a soft sigh when she cast him a look and granted him a brief touch. “You had those guards chasing me for days. Weeks, almost.”

“I knew you would escape. I need this, Nori. Sognir has been pressuring me for support and I won’t give in. Sitting with the Heroes would give me more standing.” Nori sighed. Any hopes that his family might ever enjoy themselves again seemed to be fading.

“Already?”

“You all sat alone for so long, to be seen with you gives one a certain status. Especially with the princess. You know I’d like to see stability, despite our disagreements. We need it.”

“I don’t disagree. I have work to do, but I will visit Balin. What exactly is he asking you to do?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. He comes to my workshops and brings his guards. A few of the soldiers would be a help.”

“That is something I cannot promise. But a word to Dwalin might produce results. Now, don’t let me be seen with you, else word will reach our mutual enemy.” She was gone in an instant and Nori doubled back, unwilling to let his true destination be known for a time. He had not thought to try and sway Aurvang, but if she had weighed all possibilities and decided to publicly support the throne, perhaps their efforts were finally producing results. And to that end, he had work to do.

 

The guards left the _Miner’s Delight_ , stumbling and laughing as Nori finished his first pint with a quick toss of his head. They would not remember where they had heard the story of their Queen shaming elves to feed them, but they would remember enough if he had judged the small vials tossed into their cups aright. So he had twisted Thranduil into a monster, and Bella to near impossible perfection. Such exaggerations were needed with drunks, and if it made him laugh, all the better. Someone threw two sheep’s knuckles on the table, both rolling to stand on the curved end. Casting his eyes to the ceiling, Nori eased one of his daggers loose. “A good throw. You should lay down gold next time.”

“I’ve learned my lesson, thank you.” A familiar face slid into the recently vacated seat across from Nori. “Is now a good time?” In response, Nori picked up the dice and threw them, pretending to react to their disastrous fall. His informant, an unobtrusive weaver, relaxed and cleared his throat. “There’s a lot of new things since the birth. Not all good, either.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s talk she shirks her duties.”

“You must be joking.”

“They say Thorin should not have married Belladonna if she was not ready to take on the myriad of responsibilities.”

“She faced the dragon.” Nori tossed his dagger idly, the curved blade flashing in the light of the torches. “Twice, alone. She found the Arkenstone and pressed it into Thorin’s hands, and she negotiated with the elves and Men when they still did not trust the word of a dwarf.”

“And she is a Hero of Erebor. I am not disputing that status. This is questioning her abilities as Queen.”

“And I am telling you to help me stop those lies. So she is not a Queen in the mold of Bergrún or Freydís. We do not need that right now. Where do you think all of our food comes from? Through treaties Bella negotiated. Alone. So as you drink that beer, made of finest hops from Gondor, remember the Steward said he found our Queen most charming and persuasive.” Nori took a sip from his own tankard. “And let us not forget the princess.”

Loni’s face softened and he nodded. “Perhaps if the Royal Family was more visible to the common dwarf more would remember. It’s been some weeks since we’ve seen her except for at the High Table.” Surprised at the insight, Nori nodded slowly, tugging on one of his braids.

“She is still recovering from the birth, but I think she misses being able to talk with her people.”

“You will not tell her I said such things, will you? I do only report what I hear.”

“Flavored with your own insights.” But Nori tossed Loni a small bag of coin. “I will not mention you by name, never fear. Bella is still learning. I’d wager you’d make as many missteps were you to suddenly move to Rohan.”

“Mahal save me from such a fate.” Nori moved to leave, but the other dwarf held up a hand to forestall him. “Is what I hear true? That our Queen invited the King to share her _sanzarira_ before you reclaimed our home?”

“It is true.”

“There are many who find such a thing romantic.”

“And you?”

“If she was willing to accept our ways so thoroughly, I think she has a chance of becoming a great Queen.” Shaking his head, Nori stepped into the smaller square. They had all tried to gainsay Bella’s decision to reveal such personal information, and she had been proven correct once again. He had to start getting her out into public, no matter what Dwalin or Regin might say against it. And with the added complication that she might be carrying the most important object this side of the Undying Lands, his days promised to be interesting indeed.

 

The squalls of an angry babe could be heard at the beginning of the Royal Wing and Nori felt himself tense. But his sister and Queen had asked for him and he could not disappoint her now of all times. Two of her guards stood on the door, and Nori could see their masks were breaking. “The princess is tired?”

“The Queen will be glad to see you.” One of them knocked, announcing him. The relieved voice of the Queen rose over a fresh cascade of wails.

“Is that Nori? Send him in.”

“Highness.” Bella looked exhausted but smiled as she cradled Bergdís to her neck.

“She slept last night but I’m paying for it now. I don’t know how my mother dealt with me so easily.”

“Your father wasn’t a grumpy dwarf.” Meeting her smile with his own, Nori put his hand over his heart and bowed shortly as his Queen wrinkled her nose at him.

“Nori!” But she laughed as she held out her hand and squeezed his wrist. “I wanted to ask about the reports of sabotage. Are we making any headway?” Considering how to best phrase his informant’s information, Nori decided to start with some good news.

“You were right about spreading the story of your _sanzarira_.”

“Good.”

“But your earlier absences have created some discontent.” Her face fell but she didn’t turn away, and her next words were calm.

“That is something only time may fix. Oin says I might start my walks again, to Dwalin’s loud protests.”

“Dwalin has different duties than you, and I know you miss being outside.”

“I do.” Bella stared out at her garden, hiding her mouth behind her hand before turning back to Nori. “What else?”

“Do you know the Lady Aurvang well?”

“No. I thought she was...” The Queen hesitated. “I didn’t think she was very impressed with me.”

“Truth be told, she’s not much impressed with anyone. But she’s decided to give us her support. She has her ties with the traders, less than Narvi, but enough to undermine him slightly.”

“Really? We must invite her to dinner. I’ll let Balin know.”

“He’ll be angry with me for coming straight to you.”

“He will not be angry with me, and you may use me as your shield.” Bergdís began to cry again and all regality faded as Bella rocked back and forth. “She wants her father’s beard.”

“All dwarf babes crave the beards of their parents. I’ll give it a try.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Ah!” A very large raven rapped on one of the windows. “That would be my letter from Dain.” Nori hesitated as he cradled Bergdís to his chest, letting her grab his braids cooing.

“You still write to him after he refused to help?”

“He is my cousin now, and trading partner.” Bella went to tell her guards the raven had arrived, and in moments Raka was with them, perched on the back of Bella’s chair and preening, cocking her head to stare at the now slumbering princess.

“Your chick is healthy?”

“She is. Takes after her father, blessed Eru willing.” Shooting her daughter a tender glance, Bella settled back down with a muffled hiss, but waved Nori back as she resettled in her chair. “I’m fine. Sore.”

Still cradling Bergdís, Nori grinned as he rocked back and forth. “We don’t need another stubborn Durin in this Mountain, believe me. I hope she has more of your Took blood.” Raka flapped her wings and clacked her beak even as Bella giggled.

“You are impudent, dwarf. Are you not also of Durin’s line?”

“Which is why I can say such things, darling raven.” Raka kept her wings flared and danced back and forth for a moment, but there was no challenge in her stance. “I’m sure our dear Queen has a treat or two stashed away we might offer you.”

“I have some rabbit in the ice box.” Nori tried to stand, but the princess stirred and Bella waved him to sit, fetching the croaking bird a small plate of meat with no trace of disgust. When he commented, she simply laughed. “I ran my own household for fifteen years, and it was easier for me to raise a few chickens and conies than face the market every time I craved meat. Butchering isn’t my favorite task but I’m quite capable, poacher.”

“Always you hobbits manage to surprise us dwarves. I suppose the farmers and stall keepers I sold to in Michel Delving weren’t gentlehobbits.”

“Don’t let such titles fool you.” Bella sneered as she brought Raka a bowl of water and sat, her face pale. “But let’s not talk of unpleasant things now. I’ll have my fill tomorrow, when I go to Court again.”

“So soon?”

“As you said, brother, my earlier absences have created a problem. One which I alone might correct. How is sitting on my throne any different than sitting here? Except that Dís will tend to Bergdís and I will miss her terribly.”

“You’re safer sitting here. But I will not repeat my own mistakes, and if Dwalin or Regin says anything, I will be in attendance as an extra set of eyes.”

“And an extra dagger or so? Thank you.” They glanced up as someone knocked. “Enter!” Nori’s smile slipped as his ever proper brother appeared, holding a basket of tin canisters with _cirth_ etched on their lids in Dori’s handwriting. He didn’t react to Nori’s presence, instead bowing over his gift with a graceful sweep of his purple robes.

“Highness.”

“Dori! Is that my tea?” Bella stood despite Dori’s insistence she stay seated, and took the basket before hugging the stately dwarf tightly, and Nori didn’t try to hide his smile, seeing his stern older brother gentling his strength for the tiny hobbit.

“It is indeed. I made a few blends that should sit easy on your stomach.”

“Easy? Bella, are you unwell? Don’t lie this time.” Nori glowered at his brother, who simply held his arms behind him and sniffed as Bella leaned forward to put her hand on his, meeting his eyes.

“Nothing unusual, Nori. Motherhood complaints. Thank you so much, Dori. Do you have time to join us?”

“Of course.” Trying to hide his discomfort, Nori focused on Bergdís to avoid catching Dori’s eye. The eldest of the brothers had always had a nose for the secrets of his brothers, and Ori’s disappearing act of the last months made more sense. Raka flared her wings as she finished her meal, and strutted over to where Bella sat.

“My Queen, did you have any messages right now?”

“No, Raka, thank you for making that flight. I’ll walk you out.” Trapped, Nori held his breath as they disappeared into the hall and Dori focused on him.

“You look pleased, brother. Nothing bad for the rest of us, I hope?”

“I managed to land another ally, I think.” Nori smiled down at Bergdís as she swung her fists, connecting with his shoulder. “Didn’t I, little gem? Yes I did.”

“I’m not sure what’s more terrifying, Uncle Nori or spy Nori.” Dori huffed, but his words lacked the bite of the Blue Mountains days, and Nori just smiled as he bounced his princess. “Regardless, if it means less sulking in dingy pubs, I’ll be happy. You smell of pipe and beer.”

“Oh, Bergdís doesn’t mind, do you lass? With any luck, she’ll be joining me and I’ll teach her a few tricks soon enough.”

“Brother, corrupt her and I’ll shave your beard myself!” Nori just laughed, unrepentant as Bella came back in, her head bent over her letter.

“Dain writes his son would like to come and work with us for a time.” Settling into her chair, the Queen tapped her lips thoughtfully. “It might help us normalize relations if he does.”

“Define work.” Voice sour, Dori shook his head. “That line wouldn’t know real work if it fell on their heads.” Bella wrinkled her nose at him but turned back to the papers in her lap.

“In the army. He feels the lad will have more chance to understand leadership here, rather than at home where there is too much deference.”

“That’s a change.”

“Yes. It would be nice to have more cousins around for Bergdís. The more they know her, the more likely they’ll accept her later on.”

“Has it all be decided, then? The succession?” Feigning surprise, Nori shifted his hold on Bergdis so she could lay against his heart. That he had been listening to what was supposed to be a private council meeting wasn’t something Dori needed to know. Still caught in in her letter, Bella nodded.

“Finally. Fíli is still heir, and Bergdís will rule after him. Poor Kíli’s been skipped over in all this, but he says he’d rather be battle leader and captain than king. I can’t tell if he’s covering his disappointment or not.”

“Doubt he is. He’s a fun loving lad, and he was always raised to be Fíli’s second.” Setting aside the papers, Bella patted Dori’s hand.

“If you think so. You would know better than I. No one wants to speak of the Blue Mountains anymore, and I’ve missed so much of your lives.”

“They were...difficult times. For everyone.” Dori sighed. “I rarely saw Nori and Ori was so young, and often with Balin or Dís for his lessons. I worked constantly, but there was little demand for my skills there, and I often had to resort to unskilled labor.” Bella’s eyes filled with tears and Dori tsked as he clasped her proffered hand. “Enough. The past made us who we are, but I’d rather focus on our future. And to that end, I have my own jobs to be getting on with. Brother?”

“Don’t you worry about me, darling. Besides, what could be more important than helping our Princess sleep?” Nori’s lilting tone and impudent manner had exactly the effect he desired, and Dori left after pressing a kiss to Bella’s cheek and admonishing her to drink her tea. When they were alone, his Queen quirked her eyebrow as she sat.

“You were in a hurry to get rid of him. Any particular reason?”

“Not today.”

“I’ll never claim to understand siblings, but you two seem to grate against the other especially.”

“A very long argument we’ve never quite ended.” Thankfully, she dropped the subject and they talked about what he had learned and sown among her people, until Bergdis woke demanding nourishment, and Nori took the opening to kiss Bella’s cheek and depart. Sognir’s increased pressure on nobles seen as neutral meant something was happening, and Bella’s enemies expected a confrontation. With a new goal in mind, Nori slipped back into the shadows of his home, on the hunt once more.

 

After another fruitless day, Ori left the Library earlier than normal after speaking to his senior clerks, and made for the rooms Dori had claimed as theirs, touching the ink stains on his hand. He would have to scrub with sand and soap together, else invent an accident with a clerk’s inkpot. Everyone knew he was a skilled scribe, and such a mess gave away the agitation he had felt while pouring over boring old journals. That the information he sought might not even be contained in Erebor was not a thought he could entertain now, but he was getting very close to the end of relevant material, barring another miracle like the Broadbeam chronicle.

Consumed by his thoughts, Ori climbed stairs and crossed bridges, barely seeing the restoration crews in their endless task, until he crossed one bridge and movement across the way caught his eye. Fíli, flanked by two guards, was shining in his mithril armor as he swaggered, the golden heir surveying his kingdom. Realizing he was staring, Ori started to move but froze as his name was shouted. “Ori! I’ve finally caught you. Can you walk with me?” Trapped, Ori forced a smile on his face for the curious dwarves walking by and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Where are you going?”

“Forges. But I need to ask you something.” Acutely aware of the eyes watching his every move and cursing Fili’s timing, Ori waved his assent and made his way down a flight of stairs, over a bridge and up another staircase before finding Fíli waiting, ostentatiously cleaning a dagger on his sleeve. “There you are. This place is a damn maze compared to our old halls. I’m still not sure where a third of the stairs go, and of those over half are still ruined.” The prince waved a hand towards a crew who were painstakingly drilling holes in a broken span, installing braided rods to form a new bridge from marble that would be stronger than before. “But every day, we grow.”

“I’m lucky that the Library was mostly untouched, and my path there isn’t a giant circle. Erebor won’t be whole for many years.”

“Very true. I know you’re not an alchemist, but surely Dori taught you something of his craft?” Aware of Fíli’s increased regard, Ori hesitated but finally nodded.

“When he could.”

“Good.” The prince said nothing more of their business, instead changing the topic to generalities, praising workers and traders. After a confused moment, Ori understood Fíli was speaking to those who were trying to eavesdrop, and joined in with his own banal statements of books restored, earning a pleased smile. It was a long, confused walk towards the forges, but Ori had rarely made the journey and was astonished at how much had been fixed and even improved since he had last visited. The crowds dispersed and Fíli’s mask fell to show a tired dwarf who was near his line’s end, and Ori slowed his steps.

“Fili, when did you last rest?”

“There’s no time. I failed and I must work to compensate for it.”

“Failed?”

“Where was your brain last time we met, Ori?” Now Fíli looked concerned, leaning forward to peer into the shorter dwarf’s eyes. “We talked about this before that awful night with Narvi.”

“It might not look like what you understand as work, Fili, but I am working very hard for your Uncle.” Fíli glanced down at Ori’s fists. “You have no idea.”

“Maybe not. How long has he been driving you like this that you’ve been spilling ink on yourself?”

“He hasn’t been...”

“Please, Ori, if there’s anyone in the kingdom who knows what Thorin is capable of, it’s me. Look at yourself. You need sleep more than I do.”

“It’s important.”

“So is this.” Fíli pointed ahead to the forges. “But when we’re done here, you and I are going to find a couple bottles of wine and we’re going to get drunk.”

“And pass out?”

“Now you’re getting it! Ah, Draupnir.”

“My Prince, My Lord. Right this way.” The forgemaster waved them away from the converters and hammers, leading them from the main hall and towards one of the storage rooms. “It’s just this one batch. The Lord Bofur has had us tracking production more closely, and the Princess Dis has been rigorous with the testing. I don’t know how this could have happened.” Ori wandered for a moment, distracted by one of the inscriptions on the wall, praising the workers who had carved out the forges under Thorin I’s rule, near nine hundred years ago. The carvings were barely rounded, and Ori promised himself he would be back to make a copy before Fíli called for him, dragging the scribe back to the present.

“Your efforts are helping, then, if it was just one. But I am...ah, Ori! You might have some insight for us.” Blushing at the Prince’s confiding manner, Ori joined the other dwarves and glanced down at the strange object in Draupnir’s gloved hands. It appeared to be mail, but with a sickening rust color and a texture that suggested it had been dipped in a corrosive agent.

“This was made well over a week ago, and showed no signs of tampering. But it’s been securely locked up since it came from the forge.” All of them stared at the steel and flinched back from it. Steel was reliable. Ever since the first dwarf had laid hands on iron and carbon, obeying Mahal’s instructions, steel had been the constant that allowed the dwarves to prosper. Stomach roiling, Ori dug in his sash for his thin leather gloves and tugged them on before breaking off a coin sized piece easily, wincing as he brought it up to eye level.

“Certainly smells wrong. Smell that? Acidic. But I don’t know of any compound that you can make that has the delayed action. So either our saboteur has an excellent alchemist on their side, or they’ve managed to circumvent the locks and apply this after it was made.”

“Either possibility terrifies me. Draupnir, how many others know?”

“The two of you.”

“I’ll ask my mother and Dori to come when their arrival won’t arouse comment. Until then, change the locks. I won’t have word of this spreading. And continue to hold the steel until you’re sure it’s safe.” Fíli’s voice shook before he mastered himself, fists clenched behind his back as he stared at Ori’s hands. Nauseous, Ori gave the forge master the crumbling steel, wiping his gloved hands on his robe as though he could feel the corrosion. Draupnir bowed his head.

“I won’t be able to hide this forever.”

“I know. But we’ll solve this. I just hope we can before it becomes public knowledge.” Draupnir left them and Fíli turned to Ori, swallowing heavily.

“I don’t suppose your brother has any wine at your house?” Caught off guard, Ori laughed.

“An entire room.”

“I think I’m going to need more than a bottle or two.” They began the long trek back towards the residential levels, neither speaking until they had left the heat and noise of the forge behind. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I could help. Somehow.” Acutely aware of his other duties, Ori fiddled with his sleeves. But this was important. Their steel could not be weakened. Fíli reached over and shook Ori’s shoulder as though they were still children, a smile breaking through his concern.

“You already have. What’s the state of the alchemical books?”

“I’d have to go look. One of my clerks has been working on them.”

“Don’t draw too much attention to it. Your brother’s not likely to be home, is he?”

“Not right now.” Fíli nodded. When they arrived at the stately rooms, the door carved with Ori’s house sigil drawing an appreciative whistle from the Prince, Ori went immediately to the wine storage as Fíli lit a fire and sprawled on the couch, boots up on the armrest and letting his head loll off the edge.

“Dori did a good job in here. It looks nicer than my rooms.”

“Smaug didn’t smash a hole through the middle of this.”

“That’s true.” Fíli stared at the glazed bottle in his hand. “Ah well, don’t bother with the glass.” Working out the wooden cork, wrapped in a length of pure linen, the Prince took a swig and sighed. “Now that’s good wine. How many traders does Dori send out?”

“Enough to provide homes and money for dozens of families.” Ori shuffled his feet before sitting and upending his own bottle into a goblet set with emeralds. “I’ll have to repay him.”

“Let me, if you’re worried about it. I’m sure Auntie has a few bottles that will appease him.” Fíli grinned. “Come on, Ori, we’re family now. We needn’t keep our relationship based on coin alone.”

“Never had coin to know the difference before. And now it’s...not quite real, how much I have.”

“Tell me about it. Uncle at least knows how to deal with it.” Laughing, Fíli rolled over and took another long drink. “Better start drinking, Ori, else I steal your bottle.”

“I’d like to see you try.” It was easy, seeing Fili as his childhood friend and ignore their newly acquired titles. “You’re not down at the training yards like you used to be.” Fíli nearly fell off the couch laughing, and the afternoon became a blur of recollections and laughter interspersed with wine, then more wine and less coherent stories. Both of them had a collection of pottery at their feet, covering the dark red rug, by the time Ori remembered Dori would be home soon. “Fee.”

“Um.”

“Something.”

“Uh-huh.” Giggling, Fíli slipped to the floor. “Yup.” Ori dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, laughing and wondering what had seemed so pressing moments ago.

“Can’t walk.”

“More wine!” Both dwarves leapt into the air when they heard the outer door slam, Ori joining a helpless prince as they stared up at a startled Dori, who set his bag down slowly and took a step into the common room.

“Mahal grant me strength. Are you both drunk on my wine?”

“Dori! Join us, my friend, and let your cares fall to the wayside.” Fíli sat up and gestured extravagantly, falling back against the hearth.

“Thank you, Fíli, but we’re having dinner with the kingdom tonight and I think your mother would rather you were there without a broken rib or two.” Ori winced and tried to sit as Dori firmly set the heir to the throne to his shaky feet and began to direct him to the door. The icy politeness was as sobering as a pot of tea and falling into the River Running, and Ori shot Fíli a glare as Dori handed the drunk prince to his guards and slammed the door.

“Before you start, Dori…”

“Before I start? I’m not angry about the wine, brother. But do you know how many messages I’ve received since you dropped all your responsibilities? You’ve been entrusted with great power. And here you are, acting like an unbearded strippling who can’t be trusted, drunk and rolling around on the floor!” And Ori felt something snap inside him. He had faced Wargs and Orcs, a dragon and the dungeons of the elves because he believed in Thorin. Dori had not.

“I was helping Fíli because you showing up at the forges would cause too much trouble. And if my clerks could not manage when I had already left for the day and set their tasks, then I will have to go and make sure they understand their duties. That I set. Because I am far more responsible than you seem to realize.” Ori stood, trying not to sway, and folded his arms. “You should have been telling them to do their duty. Instead, you still see me as a child who needs to be protected, not as a fellow Lord who needs support.” Dori’s mouth dropped open, and for the first time in Ori’s memory, said nothing. “Oh, and by the way, the steel has failed.”

“What do you mean, _failed_?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili tires of defending, and an unexpected plan allows him to attack his family's enemies. But the consequences of his actions will change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up with a lot of empathy for Fili, as an older sibling and the one who shoulders more responsibility than needed when confronting family dynamics. And we finally get a little bit of forward momentum!

Bow drew across taut strings with a trill of invitation, drawn out with skill until the dance began, and the rhythmic clump of boots on the floor and mugs on the table stirred passerby’s hearts, many diverting their steps to answer the call. Fíli walked by the _Queen’s Grace_ , despite his desire to join the musicians, and glanced up at the beautiful carving of Bella over the door, her serene face gazing over the Market. There was a slight discoloration on her cheek; it appeared someone had thrown something, and the cleaning had weakened the paint. Scowling, Fíli hurried his steps towards his rooms, but after three steps relaxed his face and returned hails with his own. He could hear his mother’s voice, chiding him for displaying unseemly emotion after breaking his toy sword even now. And he could not go hide away in his room like a child.

The temple was quiet this early in the morning, and Fíli felt some of his anger leave him as he walked down the central aisle, staring up at Mahal’s face and the intricately carved ceiling. With the huge space empty, Bifur’s skill had never been more obvious and Fíli stood below the dais lost in admiration until he heard a soft chuckle off to his left. High Priestess An, clad in simple robes and her iron gray hair pulled back in a training braid, stood at the door to the sanctuary. “You are early, Fíli.”

“My meeting ended. I hope I am not disturbing you?”

“Never. Would you like to see the records?”

“I simply wanted to talk.” Fíli climbed the steps and crossed the dais, and An led him to her tiny cubicle, the walls lined with scrolls and books. She sat and waited as Fíli stood, trying to arrange his thoughts. “About my aunt.”

“Hmm.” The older dwarf folded her hands across her robes, but said nothing until Fíli sat across from her. “Is this about the rumors?”

“No. Anyone who saw Bergdís could only see Thorin is her father. I haven’t heard that particular lie since she was in the temple.”

“Very true. She’s the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen.” An smiled. “It was an honor to name her before Mahal.” Trying to organize his thoughts, Fíli stared at the tips of his boots, wondering when they had been polished and cleaned. He could see himself in the leather, and he caught his sneer before remembering where he was.

“It’s…Kíli said she got sad before the birth because we never laugh around her. And then hearing Narvi say that our line has been corrupted. I know exactly what he means, even though he won’t say her name anymore.” An nodded, considering his words, and Fíli stilled himself.

“And why do those two thoughts connect in your mind?”

“Because I’m letting him direct me. I don’t suppose you haven’t heard about what I said to him?”

“Every word. I also heard you toasted at many a table afterward.” She laughed, but put a comforting hand on his. “Many love her. I was angry as well. But you’re correct. You’re letting him control you.”

“How do you move between all the factions? I never hear a word said against you.”

“I am Mahal’s representative among you. He loves all of you. Even the children who you consider evil, like the Ironfist renegades, I would welcome, and they would hesitate to touch me.” An’s smile never wavered, but for the first time, Fíli saw the daggers. He nearly left. But she had named him, had taught him when Dís could not. “Ah, your uncle reacted much the same way. Of course, he was begging me to heal his grandfather and I had to explain I was not magic.”

“I must keep her safe. If she is hurt again I will never be able to earn forgiveness.”

“You made an oath?” Fíli nodded, unable to speak, and she hummed under her breath for a moment. “Many have made that oath. The line of Durin seems to retain their weakness for hobbits through the years.” With a sigh, she sat up straight and looked him in the eyes, voice firming. “I am loyal to the throne, prince. I have done my best to shore up support where I can, and erode those who would move against you. We need stability now, if we are to survive as a people. This is one of the last strongholds. We dwindle through the years, while Men multiply. That is my task. But I cannot tell you what to do. You are a prince, and I a priestess. Your job is to protect us from the outside world, and from those who would weaken us. So keep to your oath, but remember that Bella is a living being, not a statue you protect. Laugh with her again, Fíli. Get to know your cousin and make sure she will be another strong leader for us.” Fíli blinked as An settled back, watching the impact of her words.

“She’s been talking with you, hasn’t she?”

“She is my Queen. When she was trapped in bed I visited when I could. Say hello to Bergdís for me.” Fíli bowed and left, his head reeling.

 

Ori had been avoiding him since they had nearly disposed of Dori’s wine, but Fíli decided a week was long enough for his friend to hide and made his way to the Library on the pretense he wanted to see the records on the new mines, and his mere appearance had three clerks hurrying away to find the Head Librarian. When Ori arrived, he saw Fíli and scowled, but as Fíli had hoped, the eyes watching them kept Ori civil until they were deep in the shelves. “Bella had to order three casks to appease him.”

“And I paid her back. That can’t be the only reason you’re upset.”

“I haven’t seen my brother in three days.”

“He was that upset about the wine?”

“Nori!” Hissing, Ori dropped his voice and slammed his hand into one of the shelves, sending a flurry of dust motes dancing above their heads.

“Oh.”

“He visited Bella a week ago and no one has seen him since. Dori thinks he’s just hiding out in the residential district somewhere, but I know better. He promised to have dinner with me. Nori never misses things he really promises.”

“How do you know?”

“He says he wouldn’t miss it for all the jewels on Mahal’s hammer.” Despite the anger crackling from his every move, Ori smiled. “If he promises, he’ll never do anything.”

“That sounds like Nori.”

“He’s gone. And it had to be something really important.”

“Have you asked Bella?” Ori blanched, tugging at his sleeves. “Come now, she loves you like a brother. She is always speaking your praises. And we all have missed your company these last months.”

“I wouldn’t know how to begin. It sounds too much an accusation in my head.”

“I doubt it would seem so. I understand worrying about a brother.”

“I will think about it. Meanwhile, I have work to do. I will see you in the dining hall.” Recognizing that any wheedling would just make his friend angry, Fíli left without another word. He had two meetings with the traders, difficult since they enjoyed Narvi’s patronage and understood all too well their importance to a recovering kingdom. But Fíli had Bella’s portion of the hoard to bargain with, and it took only the mention of recruiting a new trader’s guild, supported by the crown, to have them scrambling for a firmer middle ground and avoiding his bluff.

As tempting as such an organization would be, it would complicate all relationships with the guilds, and be too much a threat to their power. Still, the mere threat was effective right now, and the meeting ended with an agreement to continue meeting. Fíli wanted to scream and possibly rip out a few beards as the delegates bowed to him and left. The last three assemblies had produced the same results, and Fíli could see the power shifting towards Narvi and his supporters no matter what he did. Hearing the temporary watchmen announcing the arrival of midday, the prince recalled he needed to check on the repairs to the water clock but dismissed the thought, leaving the sparse room and making for the Royal Armory. No one would think to look for him there, and he had time before the next appointment. His duties could wait a while longer.

 

“ _Nadad_.” Looking up from his armor, Fíli saw Kíli in the doorway and nodded as his brother approached, his every step slow, but steadier now and Fíli did not move, respecting his brother’s strength. Of course Kíli would find him, and Fíli felt the tension leaving his shoulders as Kíli continued. “It’s been too long since you’ve been here.”

“I know. But there is much I must do.”

“Tch.” Kíli rolled his eyes as he leaned on the table and shifted his weight to his strong leg. “Never thought Erebor would make you _boring_ , Fíli.”

“I’m not boring.”

“No, I suppose getting Ori drunk on Dori’s wine means there’s some hope for you yet. Come play your fiddle with me tonight. We’ll wear hoods and let everyone buy us drinks.”

“If I thought that had the slightest chance of working…”

“Not one of the real pubs, idiot.” Kíli grinned, leaning close to keep his voice low. “ _Dragon’s_ _Grave_.”

“I like my liver where it is, thank you, no.”

“Come on, it’s not as bad as Dwalin makes it sound. We won’t get involved in the betting, we’ll just play in a dark corner.”

“Kíli, you’re insane. They’ll think we’re spying on them.”

“They? Fíli, most of _them_ are dwarves we grew up with.” Kíli pushed away from the table, his face twisted in disgust, but wobbled as his knee buckled and Fíli reacted without thinking, putting his hand under his brother’s elbow to stop him from falling. “Get off of me.”

“You’re welcome.” Refusing to let go, Fíli waited, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the next words that would just start another fight. He could see one of Kíli’s scars, swooping across his neck and hiding underneath his tunic, but Fíli could remember Óin stitching it closed, starting at his brother’s stomach and working upwards while Kíli screamed. “Look, I’ll think about, all right? Maybe not tonight, but soon.”

“Yeah?” The smile that spread across Kíli’s face was worth the argument and danger they would be facing, and Fíli matched it.

“Yeah. Now, since you’re here, you can help me with my swords.” Bickering as though they were still in the Blue Mountains, the brothers left the armory laughing about Kíli’s as of yet hidden friendship with Tauriel, who had gone drinking with the young Prince last time her king had visited Erebor and ended up challenging him to an archery contest, beating him by one shot despite the whiskey they had both been consuming. “I heard nothing about this! I would have given anything to be there.” Fíli lamented, and watched his brother flush with glee. He could remember Kíli speaking of long conversations with the red haired elf, and the hidden smile on his brother’s face when her name was said. If they hid because they feared the judgment of their kings or for a more personal reason, he did not care, and would wait until he saw them together to decide.

“Next time you will be. I need a judge there in my favor.” Kíli tossed his hair back, grinning, but his eyes went distant and Fíli shivered. “She found us, you know. After Beorn carried Bella and Thorin to the Healers, she was the one who kept my insides from falling out until the litter bearers arrived.” Stunned, Fíli glanced at Kíli to see if his brother was joking, but saw no sign of deceit.

“I remember nothing. But if that’s so, I owe her a debt not easily repaid. I think I’ll have to rule in her favor next contest.”

“Betrayed!” Kíli clapped a hand to his heart, staggering into Fíli with an exaggerated cry.

“Ah, not to Uncle. Bella must know?” Snorting, Fíli shoved Kíli away before remembering his injuries, but despite a wobble or two, Kíli recovered and Fíli let out his breath as they resumed walking.

“She hasn’t said, but she did keep the Prince and King occupied so Tauriel didn’t have to be at their side.” Kíli shrugged. “And she’s been helping me with my Sindarin.”

“Be careful, else you’ll be the scholar prince and earn a reputation for wisdom. See if they’ll let you play the fiddle then.”

“Highness!” Both flinched at the shout, but the approaching messenger was young and skidded to a halt. “The Lord Glóin begs your aid in the smith’s hall, please.” Fíli groaned before he could think, and Kíli cleared his throat.

“Tell him I am coming. My brother has a previous engagement.” Wide eyed, Fíli watched Kíli stride away, his limp a hesitation only, though his regal air was ruined by a parting wink and a mouthed reminder that Fíli owed him. Grateful and unsure how to react to a responsible brother, Fíli continued back towards his rooms until he heard laughter coming from his mother’s rooms that he didn’t recognize right away. The door was open, and Dwalin’s sudden presence at Fíli’s side solved part of the mystery.

“Fíli, lad, good to see you.”

“Is that Uncle?” Dwalin’s grin confirmed it, and Fíli stuck his head inside the doorframe. Remembering how distant Thorin had seemed during parts of his own childhood, when Fíli found King and Princess sprawled on the floor playing with Bergdís, the prince nearly walked out again, certain he was dreaming. “Son, there you are! I’m certain she’s going to start crawling any day now.” Dís sat up, waving, and Fíli was trapped.

“She’s not even two months old. Give her a little time.” Seeing no other option, Fíli knelt and waggled his fingers at his cousin, who cooed and waved her fist aimlessly, falling back to the sheepskin keeping her from the cold stone as Thorin kept her from rolling too far. The King of Durin’s Folk, the front of his robes damp and braids tangled, was as relaxed as Fíli had ever seen as he greeted his heir with a casual nod.

“She’s going to be trouble soon enough. When did you start crawling?”

“He was five months old.” Trying not to roll his eyes at his uncle and mother reduced to reminiscing like old beards, Fíli focused on Bergdís, holding out a finger and letting her grasp it for a moment. Her eyes, dark blue and framed by the darkest lashes, focused on his face and she burbled at him. Heart warming at the innocent affection, even if she was just a babe, Fíli planted a kiss on her cheek and tickled her tummy before turning back to Thorin, who was watching his daughter with a rare smile.

“How are things since the naming ceremony, Uncle?”

“Which things are you talking about, sister son?” Thorin swept Bergdís up into the air to delighted squawks from the princess, tucking her into his neck before sitting up and turning his attention to Fíli.

“Rumors, threats, the sabotage.” Impatient, Fíli let his face go blank. “I’m not asking after trivial matters, Uncle.”

“Rumors have faded, but one more batch of steel has failed since you brought it to my attention. Dís has been investigating, but trying to keep it from the kingdom means she moves in secret.”

“And slowly.” His mother interjected, and Fíli’s patience faded at her dismissal of his question.

“No news?” Dís sat on her couch, tugging her dress into place and frowning at his tone, but Fíli was beyond caring now. Everyone else seemed to be waiting on his actions, content to take their leisure in private and have him be the face of the King. That he had been hiding from his responsibilities only made him angrier. He shouldn’t have to sneak his own pleasure when the rest of the Company was lolling about Erebor. He was about to snap back at them both when he saw the dark circles underneath his mother’s eyes, and the momentary droop of her shoulders as she responded to his accusing tone.

“It’s not being done after the forging. I watched the rust appear from beneath the ingots, just as that anvil was corrupted. I am not sitting on my hammer in this, son.” Recalling a phrase of his aunt’s that seemed apt, Fíli sat back and let out his breath.

“My temper is frayed of late, mother. My apologizes.” Dís, displeasure fading, held out her hand and touched his temple braids before settling back to her seat.

“You have been pushing yourself, my son.”

“Should I not?” She tensed but turned her head and spoke to Thorin, her eyes never leaving Fíli.

“Brother.” Thorin raised his eyebrow at Dís, but obediently stood and left, Bergdís blowing bubbles at them from over her father’s shoulder before the door was closed. “Your king and mother’s brother should not hear this. Sit.”

“Mother, I...”

“I heard from Bella what you and Ori got up to last week. I do not begrudge you your entertainment, my son. But how many times must I hammer the lesson of moderation into you?”

“Thorin and Bella are new parents. I do more than they ask because I want my cousin to have more time than I had with my parents.”

“Son!”

“You raised two princes without a kingdom and a partner, mother.” Fíli knelt at her feet, the hurt and pain he had caused a dagger to his heart. “I did not mean to make you feel as though you were an uncaring mother. But I remember long summers under Balin’s care while you went on the road to earn bread for our people. And I missed you. Bergdis needn’t grow up like I did.”

“Fíli.” Dís drew him into a crushing hug, and he heard the tears in her voice. “I wanted so much more for you when we returned. Never did I think we might have such difficulty, and to see you bearing the weight of a sick kingdom fills me with fear.”

“There are no more dragons, and we will lessen Narvi’s power.”

“But you must not hold off your joy until then. I will not have you regretting this lost time. When I speak of moderation, I mean in work and play. I know you have your duties. But Bella has cleared her schedule tomorrow, and I have cleared yours and your brother’s for the morning. She and Kíli miss your presence at their tea.”

“But there’s the...”

“Meetings and ceremonies have been allocated around the rest of the Company and a few clerks. I think any arriving caravans or settlers will be more than pleased to meet a Princess of Durin’s Line.”

“How could they not?” Fíli hugged his mother tight, smelling the burned leather of her apron even underneath the perfume she wore and allowed himself to smile. “Thank you.”

“You are my son, Fíli.” With that, Dís left, pursuing her niece and brother and Fíli sat before the fire, looking around at the restoration of her quarters. The rooms had been hers before Smaug, and the least damaged since her toys had still been of wood and cloth. She had carved Víli’s name into the arch over the passageway to her room, the stark runes inlaid with gold and set with emeralds, the colors of his house. Fíli knew little of his father’s ancestry, but enough to know had the Longbeards of Erebor not been in the Blue Mountains, such a union never would have occurred between a minor house and the main descent of Durin. He had more of his father than even he knew, and felt the loss more and more now that they were gone from Víli’s tomb.

“What would you have said, Father, if Thorin had proposed to take your sons on such a quest? Would you have stayed silent in your anguish with Mother, or protested despite our oaths?” No answer was forthcoming from the silent name in cold stone, and Fíli shook himself. He might as well go ask Bella’s flowers how they felt about being grown so far from the Shire, or the gold veins if they wanted to be left deep in the mines. He had to hurry if he was to make the next round of supply meetings with Balin’s clerks to ready Erebor for next winter, but Fíli took a few moments to remember his father before leaving the sanctuary of the Royal Wing and spiraling down the halls and steps until he reached the wing where Balin ruled, finding the office. On the way he met several guild leaders and others who held a small amount of power, each of them stopping him to speak of inconsequential things so they might be seen in conference with the Prince. Collapsing on the table, Fíli couldn’t make himself sit upright when the door opened, but bolted upright at the familiar laughter.

“Long day already, laddie?” Sitting upright, Fíli stared at his teacher before breaking into a smile, shaking his head.

“Balin, I thought I was meeting with one of your clerks!”

“And pass the pleasure of your company to another? I found myself missing our time in the classroom. Though I trust I won’t have to dodge paper arrows any longer.” Chuckling, the old dwarf sat with a muffled groan Fíli ignored out of courtesy to his teacher.

“Invite Kíli and Ori and we’ll reenact one of our battles for you.”

“And I’ll have Dwalin and Thorin take you to the practice yards again and carry boulders.” Laughing, Fíli accepted the papers he was given and soon felt his smile fading as he examined the amount of food Erebor was bringing in, from both Dale and elsewhere.

“It’s going to be another lean winter at this rate. Unless we follow through on my threat.”

“It’s only a temporary solution, and even if you, your brother and Thorin added your share to Bella’s, we’d still have to face this problem eventually.” Unsurprised that Balin had already caught wind of a meeting that morning, Fíli shrugged.

“It would give us time. Why not subsidize a wagon more a caravan? That will not put undue stress on any one trader or town, but it will add up. Especially if we put a bounty on flour. Bombur tells me he could always use more.”

“I’ll take care of it immediately. I also heard you and the Queen will be spending the morning together?”

“Probably in the garden with my cousin.”

“See if she knows any farmers in the Shire who were known to trade with dwarves. It’s too far for anything fresh, but some pipe weed and other goods that would last the journey will stretch supplies.”

“I should have thought to ask before.”

“I avoided it because of the distance. But now that more travel between the Blue Mountains and Erebor, the route will be reliable.” Fíli nodded, flipping through the rest of the pages and finding a name that surprised him.

“The Orocarni? What food do they have?”

“Precious little. But what they do have is an abundance of minerals, and little iron or steel.” Balin smiled. “And a hunger for the old Erebor style. I will accept gold for both, as Gondor builds her armies and trades away her surplus.”

“We are fortunate they guard the south.” After wrapping up a few more details, Fíli left Balin and ran through the tasks he still had before him. His mother and Balin had tried to push an adjunct on him several times, but Fíli couldn’t stand the thought of becoming like the spoiled nobles he had despised in the Blue Mountains, relying on lackeys who extorted coin from those requesting a meeting. The practice had been banned from Erebor, but the distaste remained. Covering his face for a moment, Fíli made his way back towards his rooms, knowing he would have to work harder tomorrow to pay for dodging his responsibilities and unable to care. But before he could push into his rooms, the Captain of Bella’s guard contingent approached him. Regin.

“Prince, the Queen is in her rooms. She asked me to keep an eye out for you.”

“Is this about tomorrow? My mother already told me.”

“I do not know, Prince.” The dwarf did not move out of the way and Fíli sighed.

“Lead on, Captain.” Bella was alone in the front room, pacing in front of the fire, eyes closed and entire body tensed as she kicked at her robes. Both dwarves paused and Fíli stepped forward after a moment.

“Auntie, I’m here.” She spun, hand dropping to Sting before letting out a breath.

“I thought you were going to be longer than that, Fíli.”

“I was dodging out on my inspection tour.” Shrugging, Fíli enfolded his tiny aunt in a hug, before she pulled back and looked around.

“I must talk to you.” Obedient, Fíli bowed and watched Bella’s shoulders relax. “In the garden, I think.”

“Afraid of someone overhearing?” He was teasing but she tensed again as she led them to the hidden passageway. “Auntie, what is it?”

“Regin, please come with us.” Regin looked startled but nodded, posting another guard on the door before following them out to the terrace. Fíli still couldn’t believe Bella had managed to transform the bare space into a paradise, but he sat on one of the little benches across from her as Regin stood nearby, his hands tight on his axe. “Things are getting worse. The mail failing will make the army weak and we need our soldiers more than ever. So we stop dancing. I will use my ring and go spy on Narvi.” Regin looked confused as Fíli leapt to his feet, but the guard joined Fíli in his protest.

“And send you alone into danger?”

“My Queen, I know you are silent, but he will see you.”

“No, he won’t.” Bella pulled out a tiny leather bag from her sash and dropped the gold band into her palm, holding it up before slipping it onto her finger, vanishing. Swearing, her guard leapt back as she reappeared, her face serious. “But I need you two nearby just in case. I can whistle loud and fast enough if I am discovered.”

“There is no guarantee we will hear you inside his home!” She pursed her lips and a piercing tone hit both dwarves hard enough to make Regin drop his axe and Fíli to flinch backwards, covering his ears with an involuntary motion.

“I think invisibility and that will be enough to keep me alive. If you can break down the door.” Regin answered her without hesitation, his unperturbed air matching that of his Queen as Fíli’s mind raced.

“It’s new wood, but the bolts and brackets are solid. No tampering there, I fear, but I can break it down for you.”

“Regin, have you been scouting his house already?”

“Not by myself.” The guard flashed the only smile Fíli had ever seen, but the stoic mask was back in place as he continued. “I don’t agree this is the only way.”

“I’m tired of sitting and waiting. This is too much. If word gets out our steel isn’t trustworthy, what next? There aren’t that many nobles out there who want our gold and jewels. Our currency is backed by confidence in the swords and mail on our soldiers as they guard our trade caravans. Personal attacks were one thing, Regin, but this threatens everything.” Fíli let out a long breath and took Bella’s hand in his so she would look at him as he made another promise.

“I will go. And you are sworn to silence, Captain, no matter if you aid in this matter or not.”

“My oath binds me to keeping you both safe. Not happy with me. I would rather lose my post and know you are alive than stay silent and attend your funeral.” Bella flinched from her guard’s implacable stare, but she raised her chin after a moment and stared at Regin until he bowed his head.

“My own oath means I must keep this kingdom safe. I am going. Tomorrow. I want you to hire a messenger and have one of my guards write a meaningless message thanking Narvi for his recent patronage. Leave it unsigned. I’ll slip in. After dinner, you’ll send a different messenger with a small gift from the Lady Vestri, as a token of thanks for his recent help with the Iron Hills. He’ll never know I was inside.”

“So much could go wrong, Auntie.”

“Yes. If I’m not back with you, you’ll wait until morning unless I whistle for you. If I’ve been captured, send one more messenger from Dís, asking Narvi to a meeting to make sure I haven’t been waiting for doors to open. Then you can storm the residence, and I’ll face Thorin’s wrath.”

“What about Bergdís?” Bella stared down at her hands, taking deep breaths that were too close to sobs for Fíli’s heart. He had his arm around her shoulders in moments, pulling her close and apologizing, but she shook her head.

“If I want my daughter to have a kingdom to rule after you, I have to do this. Else I fear another exile, or death.”

“Don’t fear. I’ll be waiting.” She nodded and stood.

“I knew I could trust you, Fíli.”

“What preparations must you make?”

“Some few. I must see to my daughter and husband tonight. Will you inform your brother I will be in Dale tomorrow, due to an unexpected problem with the orchards? And that I promise to spend some time with him later. Unless you think we could ask Kíli.” Fíli shook his head, regretting what he was about to say but knowing it for truth.

“My brother still can’t walk quietly. And his love for you might send him to Thorin before we could convince him.”

“I always think of Kíli as the foolhardy one, but you know him better than I. You are a fine Prince, sister son.” Her deliberate use of Thorin’s words brought a smile to Fíli’s face, and he bowed again.

“And you a fine Queen. I will see you after breakfast.” Leaving her and Regin in the garden, Fíli’s hands tingled and he recognized the uncertainty that sent his blood pumping. The feeling he had been missing since the battle, when he had tried to assume the mantle of the heir and Prince his uncle had spoken of time and time again. He didn’t belong in the role, and he hurried back to his rooms to ready his kit. It was time to become the warrior once again.

 

Next morning, Fíli waited until the corridor cleared to slip to the room down the hall, finding Regin waiting with ill concealed worry, the captain’s forehead creased and his frown directed at the both. Bella, dressed as she had been on the long journey to Erebor, was picking at a plate of food, but when Fíli arrived she beamed and stood, beckoning him towards her desk piled high with books and papers. She unearthed a plain red journal, turning it over in her hands before thrusting it towards him. “Give this to Thorin in case...in the event I can’t. There are things in there he must know.” Closing his hand on the smooth leather, Fíli shivered when the implications of her words hit him.

“Bella.” She held up her hand and he fell silent as she continued.

“You must promise. Things I want to tell Bergdís when she is older, about my people and her family back in the Shire. If I’m not here, she’ll be a hobbit alone with no idea of her history, surrounded by dwarves. If nothing else, she must see the Shire once.”

“Why are we doing this?”

“Because there is no other choice. We have another dragon in this kingdom, and I intend to face him once more.” Bella closed her eyes and Fíli hugged her, letting their foreheads rest together for a brief moment.

“You were my fellow _shomakhîth_ before you became my Queen. I will support you in this. But I will fear.”

“As will I.” Letting out a nervous breath, Bella turned to Regin. “We will meet you at the grotto path, Captain.”

“As you command.” He bowed before donning his helm and Bella shivered as she pulled her ring from her pocket. “You will not reconsider?”

“I will not. The messenger should already have her orders, and we need to go now.” Regin left and Fíli handed Bella his dagger.

“Don’t use it unless you must. But I will not send you into danger unarmed again.”

“Thank you. Regin is taking the main passage to the path he found. We need to go the long way.”

“Keep hold of my pack so I know you’re with me.” Fíli plucked at his old jacket. “If anyone sees me, they’ll think I’m coming back from a hunt. The torches shouldn’t give away your shadow if you stay near mine.”

“I hope you’re right.” She disappeared, and only the faint pressure on his pack told Fíli he had company as he started walking. He saw few dwarves, this early in the day, and spared a thought for the letters he had left in his room. One, for his mother, apologized. The other, for Kíli, begged for understanding. Last night, unable to sleep, Fíli had faced why he used Kíli’s injuries as an excuse to the Queen. He had seen his brother on the edge of death once. Never again. If Kíli was angry later, at least there would be a later for him. Fíli had never met Frerin, but had heard all the stories his elders had been able to tell him, and could still see the pain in Thorin’s eyes whenever the dead Prince was mentioned.

“Fíli, pay attention! This is our turning!” Brought back to the present by Bella’s words, Fíli ducked down a dim, rubble filled passageway that Regin had described. It was thought to be closed, but the wall had collapsed into a breathtaking cave, that provided access to one of the grottos near the residential district where many of the returning nobles had chosen to live, returning to buildings damaged but still home. Compared to the rooms that branched from one main corridor of the Royal Wing, the self-contained structures were elaborate and varied from one family to the next. Ignoring them, Fíli peered around and found the stalagmite that looked like an anvil with ease, and Regin materialized from the shadows. Bella reappeared, shivering, but she smiled at them both. Regin glanced behind him, fingers tapping on his axe.

“Huldar will be sending the first messenger soon. We should get moving again, my Queen.”

“And the others?”

“The notes have been written. Unless he hears from me, they will be sent.” Bella nodded, her face serious in the dim light from the small lantern Regin had brought for her. The rest of the journey was accomplished in silence, the echoes small against the soft limestone where they walked. Finally, they reached the formation that faced their destination, and saw the distinct red robes of a messenger climbing up some steps and starting towards Narvi’s door. With a whispered farewell, Bella disappeared in a heartbeat, and Fíli only felt a brief touch on his wrist before he knew Bella had gone. Crouching behind a limestone outcrop, Fíli watched the unsuspecting messenger approach and kicked Regin’s boot. “That’s a gate, not a door.”

“It’s got a couple of weak points.”

“Where?”

“Places.”

“She’s inside!” Fíli hissed and made to start a futile run at the residence, but Regin’s hand closed on the back of his jacket and jerked him back to the ground.

“No whistle or signal. I obey my Queen.”

“She’s my _aunt_.”

“And yesterday you swore to obey your _aunt_ who is _Queen_ and she was perfectly clear in her orders. Sit down. I have jerky and cram if you’re hungry.”

“What under the Mountain did you do when you lived in the Iron Hills?”

“I served Dain as one of the gate guards.”

“And now you’re throwing Princes around. No one just tosses me aside and…”

“Look at the upper window. There’s a guard up there with a crossbow.” Drawing back, the two dwarves fell silent and Fíli took first watch, holding the mate to the dagger he had given Bella, scanning the house methodically while breathing through his nose to stay quiet. The hours passed, announced by the echoes of chimes from the main chambers below, and nothing stirred in any of buildings. The second messenger, another young dwarf Fíli thought he recognized from the Market, arrived and startled Fíli from his stupor. After the door had opened and closed, Regin and Fíli looked around, both waiting for the Queen to reappear. After the next hour chimed, Regin cursed and jerked his head at Fíli.

“She’s not coming out tonight. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you for the second watch.”

“I will try.” Sick at heart, Fíli set up his bedroll and tucked himself into a shelf the River had carved out long ago when Erebor was young, and despite all his worry and anger, fell asleep. Returning to the familiar pattern of travel, watches and rough beds, he woke refreshed when Regin touched his shoulder, and took up his position again, scanning the darkened street and refusing to think of what Bella might be going through. To distract himself, Fíli started to catalogue the different residences that overlooked the dramatic formation where he hid. Now that he had the time to exam then in detail, he saw the resemblance to human fortresses. They could withstand a siege for weeks, if the enemy without could not access the plumbing. History said the Longbeards had come to Erebor harried by the dragons of the Withered Heath. Considering this sector had been less damaged by Smaug, the designers had succeeded, and Fíli made a note to study their work for the gates and front rooms. He knew the adage of the Durin’s, but even when facing forward one could learn from the past.

He was able to pursue that thought until he nodded forward and jerked back, heart racing, terrified he had missed some signal and found the houses opposite unchanged. Something had distracted him. Wary, Fíli stood and turned, wondering if their tiny camp had been discovered, when a hand closed on his wrist and another slapped over his mouth. Frantic, he spun to dislodge his attacker when their voice finally reached his ears. “Fíli, Fíli, it’s me!” Bella. Sagging to his knees, gasping for breath, Fíli waved Regin away as his aunt reappeared, her hair in disarray and her cheeks flushed.

“Mahal’s hammer, Auntie! You got out? How?” Brushing her hands over her jacket and trousers, Bella shook her head. She looked unharmed, and she did not seem to fear pursuit, but her eyes were turned inward and her voice trembled.

“Servant’s entrance. I thought dwarves didn’t…”

“You should ask Balin to explain.” Regin coughed into his fist and Fíli started, recognizing the delay they were creating. “Ready?” Regin didn’t wait for either of them, already moving and checking the path in front, axe in one hand ready to strike. But it was as empty as it had been the previous day, and they reached the Royal Wing after an agonizing hour of making sure no one followed. Bella reappeared without warning, her face pale as snow and her hands clenched in fists, but once they were inside her quarters, she told Regin to post new guards and get some rest. He left, bowing, and Fíli built up the fire as Bella sank into her armchair, hiding her face in her hands.

“What happened?”

“I can’t talk about it yet.” She whispered, and fearing the worst, Fíli was at her side in moments. “I was not discovered. But it is unpleasant hearing such horrible things about you and your family when you cannot defend either. He called me...he said I used…”

“Think nothing more of his lies, auntie.” Hovering, afraid to touch her and send her reeling into a waking nightmare, Fíli sank to his knees and she reached out a hand, grasping his as though she were drowning. “Those who love you do not believe him. Did you find it?”

“I saw many secrets in that place. And I believe I saw enough to bring him to justice.” Her voice delivered the sentence with such power Fíli shivered and found himself wondering if Narvi would run when confronted with her accusations. “But I must speak to Thorin first. He will have to give the order. A hobbit queen can’t do this.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I was visiting Dale and might not make it back because of the trees.” Bella flushed, staring down at her feet. “I hope he will forgive me.”

“If this helps us, how could he not?”

“Because I used his trust in me to lie.” She shook her head, covering her eyes and drawing in on herself. “How can he believe me again?”

“Thorin used subterfuge before. You will confess, and he will understand the battle you were fighting. It was a feint.”

“Perhaps.” Bella stood, making for the door. “I must gather myself. Has Nori reappeared?”

“He has not.”

“When he does, I need to see him at once.” Fíli settled his aunt in her garden before searching out his brother and mother. It might take some time, but the line of Durin needed to begin building support in earnest for the Queen for the coming storm.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella copes with the repercussions from her discovery, and Thorin shares his own surprise with his Queen.

The garden high above the River Running was warm, air scented with damp earth and the sharp pine forest below. She could still feel the scrape of the wooden door on her calves, her freedom stolen by mere inches, and cursed her Took blood, the love of adventure that had never seemed as foolhardy as it had now. Trembling, the Queen dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, attempting to drive away sights and sounds she had been unprepared for by summoning images of Bag End and happier times. But the memories had lost their warmth, with the certainty she would never again see the smial where she had been born. She thought she had gained a measure of wisdom that the sheltered little hobbit she had once been never could have. She did not miss Bag End as a location, but as a home, the place where her parents had kept her safe. And as much as she loved her new home, it was overwhelming, larger than any village or town she had ever seen, and if not for her guards and family she would have been lost long ago.

Erebor was not a comfortable hole in the ground, let the elves and men be as snide as they wished about dwarves. Maybe it was good that her kingdom kept her on edge, for being a Queen was neither comfortable or easy, but there were days she wanted to smell the pipe weed fields near harvest time, or listen to the gentle music of the Brandywine, so unlike the roar of the River. Bella closed her eyes, her mind reaching out for a more recent memory to help steady her nerves. She sat under the eaves of her potting cave, hands clenched around her ring and tears prickling her eyes, but she could not cry, only gasp for air through a throat coated in fire as her mind raced back in time.

 

Thorin beckoned her closer, caught between shadow and light as he stood in the small copse of trees. The pines had survived fire and war, sheltered along the river close to the lake, and today Balin and Glóin and Dori had assumed the royal couple's duties to give them this time. She clambered over the boulder slowing her progress, her new breeches and coat allowing her more freedom than she had had in months. Thorin was once again clad as a traveling warrior and she felt her breath catch in her throat as he turned to face her fully, his eyes blazing as they caught the sun. “It was close to here.” His voice was soft, but rumbled through her, leaving her shaking and wanting more. Bella fell into Thorin’s arms as she tripped over a tree root, his hands gentle on her waist until she smiled and nodded. He had been her husband two days when he had initiated a game of chase that had started with laughter and ended with her lashing out when he cornered her, screaming and crying and her entire body focused on escape.

Now he was always seeking her permission before putting in her in situations where she might be afraid, and never making her feel ashamed when she was. For that alone she would stand at his side; no one had ever made her physical comfort and mental ease their only aim before Thorin had stepped into her life, and some nights she lay at his side not daring to sleep for fear he would turn into smoke and slip through her fingers.

Thorin lifted her over a deep channel the spring melt had carved on the hillside and pushed aside some low hanging branches, the needles rustling in protest. Bella froze. A proper hobbit picnic, including basket and quilt, spread across the brown needles at the base of the huge tree, and two beeswax tapers rested on the lower branches, ready to be lit. Their wedding gift from Beorn, and saved against some special occasion. She could think of no finer place where they might shed their light and stared at Thorin removing his boots and shedding his jacket, making her a more comfortable bed. “Come and sit, my Queen.” There was little food in the spread, but presented so perfectly the little hobbit knew Bombur had done this for her. She sank to her husband’s coat as Thorin busied himself with uncorking a very dusty bottle of wine. “Found in the Master's secret warehouse. From the south, I believe, and the cork looks to be well.”

“Let me be the judge of that, you mead guzzling dwarf. You wouldn't know proper finish if it bit you on your nose.” Bella let the potent brew breath for a few moments before sniffing at the bottle as Thorin grinned and laid back, hands behind his head and eyes closed.

“That was quite good, my Bella. A true wife's retort.” She rolled her eyes but her lips curved up despite her attempts to remain stoic. Dís had been full of advice for being married to a dwarf; insults only made Thorin smile, while praise made him suspicious. It spoke to a relationship he and his brother must have shared, and Bella would do anything to bring that gentle smile to her husband's face.

“Bifur and Nori have been sharpening my tongue. Prepare yourself, _khurdu_.” Thorin levered himself to his elbows, hair falling back as he stared at her.

“For what, _ghivashel_?” His teasing smile curled the corner of his mouth beautifully and Bella reached out for him, tangling the ends of his hair in her hand.

“To bear the brunt of my new found confidence.”

“I believe I have the fortitude necessary, if only by the thinnest of margins, lovely flower.”

“What kind of flower do you think of when you look at me? Lavender?” Bella found the two horns and poured herself a taste, breathing deeply once more before drawing the potent beverage into her mouth. Thorin leaned back and stared up at the trees.

“Though you smell ever of such sweetness, no. There is a flower that graces the slopes of Erebor when the snow retreats. It is very short to the ground, for the soil is poor there, as the mineral concentration is high.” Bella froze with her mouth full of wine. She had no idea her husband would have a serious answer at the ready for her, and swallowed the smooth vintage to take a breath as he continued. “It is blue, and shaped like the bells of Old Dale, turned up to catch whatever sun it may. The petals are fragile, translucent. I used to trod on them as a boy, and noticed it only took the lightest touch to tamp them down. But even under the harsh boots of dwarves, it does not lose its shape, and often the next day I would see those same flowers reaching back towards the sun. I had not thought of them for many years until the morning we stood in your garden and I saw something similar, though hardier.”

He turned and caught her eyes with his, and Bella knew she looked frightened as he slowly sat upright, his forehead creasing. “I believe it is called the mountain bell by the Men of Dale. We do not name flowers that have no medicinal value, but I think if I were to try I could only find one fitting.” Thorin sat up and held out his hand to Bella, drawing her close and dropping his mouth to her ear. “ _Katafurinh_.” Bella shivered as her mind raced, attempting to translate as Thorin’s tongue ran up the edge of her ear to the point, wringing a groan from her as he lay her back on his coat and stretched beside her, careful of the food and wine.

“The lady who… _furi_ …that is a conjugation of to live…” Bella closed her eyes to think through the lessons Bifur and Balin had started for her, but Thorin’s scent was filling her world.

“You are such a scholar.” Thorin dropped his mouth to her neck, one hand curling around the back of her head to support her. “And _kata_?”

“Knowledge of. The lady who knows how to live.”

“And what else does _kata_ imply?” Bella closed her eyes, his touch shattering her concentration.

“That it is deeply won knowledge of something.”

“Survivor.” Thorin rumbled as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her neck, where three of her scars converged in a tangle. “Survivor with strength, to give it the full shading of _furi_. That is what you are to me, what rings in my mind whenever I see you grow overwhelmed or frightened. I have thought long on the true name to give you, my Bella. Mine is long, as befits a dwarf of my line, but you come to us new made. I think there is no other word you need to wear to boast of any accomplishment or deed. That you are here with me now, my wife and Queen, is enough to proclaim your courage and fortitude.” Bella turned into Thorin’s broad chest, and he held her as she wept in gratitude.

“ _Khurdu_. Husband. _Bundâlel Khar Sanabad Khulur_. I cannot thank you enough.”

“My mountain bell, lavender lass.” He put a hand to the top button of her linen shirt, raising an eyebrow and only moving when she nodded. Each button undone gave him more skin to kiss, though he skipped over her binding to drag his beard along the sensitive skin of her stomach. Bella arched into him, burying her hands in his unbound tresses as he worked her shirt and jacket off together. She loved saying his true name while he was trying to undress her, feeling his fingers fumble as she repeated it in a quieter tone. “My Bella, your voice has never been so beautiful.” He slid her arms from her shirt and his hand behind her neck steadied her, her mouth opening to sigh his name once more when his lips pressed to hers and his soft tongue teased her own until she returned his kiss with her own. For endless moments Bella let Thorin hold her until she wanted more, and he rolled to his back to let her untie his tunic and strip him to the waist. His skin pebbled against the air, but his natural heat kept her hands warm as she bent to press kisses to his hairy chest and strong neck.

“Thorin.” Her husband grunted in response, eyes dark as he cupped her cheek. “We both have far too many clothes at the moment.”

“The same thought had occurred to me, my Bella.” He hooked a finger in the waistband of her trousers, pulling her into another kiss. “What do you propose to do about it?” Giggling at his serious tone and dancing eyes, Bella unhooked her breeches and wiggled out of them, and listened to Thorin groan her name when he saw she wore nothing underneath. “Did I give it away?”

“I hoped we might find an opportunity for...bed.”

“Hobbits.” Bella shivered and Thorin shook out another blanket, covering their bare bodies and wrapping her tight against his chest. The position always reminded her of cold, miserable but safe nights in the dungeons of the elves, and from the faraway smile on her husband's face, he was thinking along similar lines. Dropping his mouth to her ear, Thorin bit her earlobe before whispering, “Do you know how you tortured me those nights, my Bella? Your beauty as close as this and untouchable.”

“How might have you begun, oh King?”

“Burglar, you tempt me.” Bringing her into a soft kiss, Thorin lay back and pushed her braids from her face, eyes hooded. “You are cold. Let me...warm you.” Giggling at the outrageous tone, Bella pushed Thorin to the ground and straddled him, arching into his hands on her waist.

“My King, I had no idea you felt this way. I am overwhelmed.”

“I think you knew.” Arching backwards, Bella felt Thorin’s hard cock against her leg and adjusted the angle, closing her eyes and moaning as her wet cave pushed against his length. His hands anchored her, and Bella arched again, taking him inside her and gasping again at the sensation of completion as their hips touched. She knew this slow pace had a way of making Thorin writhe, and today, under the sun and sky, she felt no great desire for surrender. Instead she kept a slow pace, rocking back and forth until she relaxed against his cock and Thorin was gripping the blanket underneath him, eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. One of his knees bumped into her back and Bella laughed, pausing mid stroke and putting her hand over Thorin’s heart.

“Is it so difficult?”

“ _Bashakizu_!” Groaning, Thorin bucked but stilled himself, covering his face with his hand and Bella bent to plant a kiss to his pierced nipple, tugging at the bar with her tongue and listening to more dwarvish curses fill the air around her.

“Torturous? What would you rather I do, my love, to keep you warm?” Thorin did not answer her, but his hands wrapped around her waist and he finally opened his eyes, holding her gaze as he flexed his hips into her willing embrace and she nodded. Encouraged, he grinned and increased his speed, snaking one hand behind her neck to pull her into a kiss. Panting, Bella wrapped her arms around his strong neck and buried her face into his shoulder, begging for release in three languages until Thorin pushed his thumb against her pearl and her world went white, her sobbing scream of pleasure ringing over the trees. Gasping, Thorin pressed his lips to her ear and she heard his need as he moaned her name.

“Bella, I can not.” Knowing what he needed, Bella threw back her head and slid back onto his cock, biting her lip when she was full of him once more.

“I am ready.” She tightened her grip on him as he sped his pace, reaching another peak as her husband growled his own orgasm into her ear, and fell back to the ground with his arms tight around her waist, laughing as she ran her fingers over his hairy chest, unable to keep the satisfied growl contained at the sight of a dwarf king laying beneath her spent and boneless.

“Pretty wife.”

“Pretty husband.” Laughing, Thorin reached for his wine, and they spent the rest of the day eating and laughing together, until they lit the candles as the sun sank low in the sky. By the time they decided to go back to Erebor, the tapers were mere stubs, and Thorin pinched the flames, plunging them into darkness. But the stars overhead were bright, and even as they walked through the Desolation towards Erebor, holding hands and saying nothing, the crescent moon rose from the Lake and gave them a silver path to follow. Bella whispered her new name to herself, and Thorin squeezed her hand, dropping his head to plant a kiss to her temple. Her heart had never felt more full.

And two weeks later, when her courses failed to arrive for the first time in decades, Bella realized she had been given a much greater gift than a name.

 

With a gasp, the Queen of Erebor opened her eyes, looking beyond her carefully cultivated beds to the slopes of her Mountain, where she tended the native plants. The flash of light blue amid the dark rocks twisted at her heart, reminding her of that sweet day of languages taught, names given and a daughter created. She stood. Words might fail her. But Thorin knew to listen to what she couldn’t say, and somehow she would tell him what she had heard.

It was dark outside before Thorin stomped back into the room and Bella pressed her hands to her stomach before standing, letting her book fall to the floor. “ _Ghivashel_?” He glanced around the quiet room. “When did you get back from Dale? Where is Bergdís?”

“She is with Dís right now.” She felt sick as her husband’s face fell. “There is something I must tell you alone. I did not go to Dale yesterday. I used my ring and snuck into Narvi’s quarters.”

“You _what_?” Thorin started forward and Bella flinched back from him, hating herself as he stumbled to a halt, his hands clenching and unclenching as his chest heaved. She forced herself to look up and meet his angry gaze, the hair falling over his face hiding all but the glint of his teeth.

“It is _our kingdom_ he is attacking. Because of me. And I took control.” Thorin stepped closer and her voice dried away, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“You swore. You swore on both our creators not to go into danger without telling.” His voice was nothing more than a snarl and Bella felt herself trying to curl away from his anger, forcing her muscles into rigidity.

“And I did. Regin and Fíli were prepared to help if needed.”

“And how under the seven stars would they have known they were needed?” He took another step and Bella slipped as the carpet moved under her retreat. Sitting on the ground, wrists and palms smarting, Bella bit the inside of her cheek to stop the scream building inside of her and Thorin knelt, the frightening king gone and only the lover remaining as the shadows fell from his face. “Bella. Please. You could have been killed.”

“Yes. Especially because he was speaking to an Ironfist spy.” Thorin fell back in his turn, a wounded sound escaping him. Bella rose to her knees and reached for him. “ _Khurdu_. Please. There is something going on I don’t understand. Narvi seemed torn between loyalty to you and driving me out. And the Ironfists are abusing his indecision, using his father’s loyalty to hurt him for falling from grace. It’s sad, Thorin. I think if you reached out to him…”

“What aren’t you saying?” Thorin grimaced as he reached out for her hand and grabbed it as he would a lifeline, and Bella pushed herself into the safety of his arms, knowing he would catch her. “You look miserable, _ghivashel_. I can feel the beat of your heart and you’re panicking.”

“They alluded to a plot.” Bella pressed a hand to his cheek, breathing through her nose to regain her composure. Something was hammering against her ribs and the tears in Thorin’s eyes were knives to her skin. “But they didn’t go into details beyond it would strike at the very heart of Erebor. I think it’s the iron and other sabotage, but I could be wrong.”

“They will not succeed.” Thorin stood, his arms keeping her close to his chest as he started to walk towards the door. “Did they write down anything, glance at any books in his quarters?”

“Not that I saw…”

“There must be something. As far as I’m concerned, Narvi is a traitor and I’ll be invading his quarters with my guard.” Bella let out her breath as Thorin pulled the door open and confronted Dwalin.

“We’re sleeping elsewhere tonight. I want you to guard this door as though we remain, and send two of your best with me.” Dwalin closed his hand on Thorin’s arm, the new beads in his beard drawing Bella’s eye. Her brother had become demonstrative with his emotion with Bofur at his side, and she had to close her eyes to maintain composure as Dwalin questioned his King.

“Where are you going?”

“I haven’t decided yet. You can't know tonight.” Grumbling, Dwalin subsided when Thorin whispered something, resting his forehead against his King's for the briefest of moments before turning to Bella and catching her in a rough hug, kissing the crown of her head before letting go.

“If I don't see you tomorrow, I'll haunt you until the Final Battle.”

“So witnessed, my brother.” Blinking back tears, Bella waved as Thorin led her to Dís' door, knocking and stepping back to guard the doorway with the two helmed dwarves, leaving Bella to tell Dís they were disappearing for the night even as the Queen caught her daughter to her chest. True to her blunt nature, Dís only took Bella's hand for a moment before stepping back and assuming a mask Bella had seen often at Court, but her sister’s eyes were tight, and Bella had to swallow her tears.

“Keep the little one safe. I will see you in the morning?”

“In the throne room. Have the entirety of our guards waiting, and keep the Court away but for the Company.” Thorin spared a moment to kiss Bergdís on her forehead, then turned to the two guards waiting once they were back in the hallway. “We're going to the grove tonight.”

“At once.”

“Using the back ways. Stealth is more of a concern than speed.” Thorin put his hand to Orcrist, but left his weapon sheathed as the royal family ducked into a little used corridor. Bella had never seen some of the passages she was led through, but her focus was on her daughter, who had fallen asleep against her neck, hands clinging to her braids.

“Thorin, where are we going?”

“It’s a safe place. I prepared it some time ago.” Thorin slowed his steps and the two guards dropped to the front and back of the royal couple without a word. “Once we’re there we can talk. I’m still...you put much at risk, Bella. I need time, and I don’t have any right now.” His words were harsh, but the hand on her cheek was as gentle as a spring breeze. “We’re almost there.” She nodded and Thorin held her hand as they continued walking, ducking through dusty lanes and up stairs, until they stopped at a blank wall. Bella tried to control her surprise when Thorin pushed at an unmarked section of the wall and a door appeared, revealing a set of stairs going down into darkness, but her gasp echoed around them as torches were lit and the door was closed behind them.

“I’ll never understand how you build such things.”

“It is a craft lost to time.” Thorin held her hand, helping her steady herself as Bergdís began to wake. “My grandmother showed me this passageway. It connects to a grotto. The main passageway there was destroyed by the worm, and I realized it presented a hiding place for us in times like this.”

“How clever.” Bella was about to say more when they reached the bottom, and all words failed her. She thought she knew what a grotto was; Erebor had several, and Thorin had taken her on walks to many of them before their wedding. But what she saw now made the smaller caves drab. The cave ceiling was lost high overhead, and the floor bare, though the rock glittered with intrusions in the torchlight. The walls had breaks in them, but instead of darkness, she could seem strange shapes and colors but make nothing else out in the weak light.

There were several chests along the wall, and Thorin fetched two blankets and made her sit before speaking to the guards in an undertone. Both bowed and went back up the stairs, and Bella kept her eyes on Bergdís, smiling and making faces until Thorin sat across from her and held out his arms. Without saying a word, Bella kissed her daughter on the forehead before letting Thorin take the wiggling babe. He spent a few moments playing with her, letting the princess play with the beads in his hair and holding her high overhead, making faces as she waved her arms at her father, blowing bubbles. Once Bergdís was nestled into his beard, head resting on his shoulder, Thorin turned back to Bella and held out his hand. Placing her hand in his, Bella curled her fingers around his callused palm and braced herself for a scolding. But his voice was calm as he started to speak, almost too low for her to hear except that his words rumbled through her chest. “You told me you were going to Dale. When I saw Kíli earlier, he said Fíli had told him the same. So you and my nephew lied to your family.”

“I did.” Bella whispered. “Knowingly.”

“I trust you, _ghivashel_. But it will take time for the sting of this to fade.” Standing, Thorin rocked Bergdís back and forth, leaving Bella to huddle alone in her blankets. “Such a foolhardy act! Alone, in the home of a dwarf who would just as soon you were dead. But you, in such fashion as I should have expected from a hobbit willing to face three trolls, instead uncovered his treachery. Treachery that I, or any other of my people, never could have found, and in enough time to halt the corruption of our steel. Once again, my love, you saved a kingdom with your unflinching courage.” Stunned, Bella looked up at her husband in time to see his smile, and the tears on his cheeks. “I will have nightmares thinking of the danger you were in, but you lived it.” He knelt and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, and Bella clung to his chest, the fear and pain she had been hiding for so long releasing their hold on her as she realized she had succeeded.

“I didn’t know what else to do, Thorin. I felt like I was being caged in, bar by bar, and letting it happen.”

“ _Katafurinth_.” Thorin pulled her closer, resting his cheek on her hair. “We can talk later. This last year has been a difficult time for us both. I have a surprise for both my girls.”

“What it is?” Following him towards a large break in the wall, Bella stared as the torchlight showed a wall of black and blue crystals lining the small tunnel, reaching out to touch one of the spears in wonder. “It's beautiful.”

“It is.” Thorin stopped in the middle, pushing his torch into a smaller cavity, and a second light sprang to life. “When this was found, the movement of the stone had cracked the crystals. We were able to restore the pocket to its original state after some painstaking work from the stone builder's guild.”

“I had no idea such a thing was possible.”

“There's more.” The next chamber was smaller, the ceiling just as high and the floor dominated by a pillar of pale stone that reminded Bella of birch trees she had climbed as a child. Bergdís cooed and Thorin soothed her as he walked to the wall and thrust the torch inside, repeating the action twice more around the cave and setting the tarred pine into a sconce near the crystal encrusted passageway. Bella stared at the candlelight pouring from the amethyst geodes and leaned into Thorin as he rejoined her, overwhelmed at the strange beauty her husband was showing her. “I meant to show this to you under happier circumstances.” His hand on her waist tightened for a moment, betraying his thoughts, and Bella laughed as he led her around the pillar to reveal a bed carved into the other side. There was no mattress, Bella noted with relief, for down here unattended she shuddered to think of what might hide in straw and linen. The edges of the frame were smooth under her hand, and unlike the severe straight lines of the royal chambers, followed the natural flow of the stone and reminded her of driftwood. After the intense fear of the last days, being able to focus on something simple was the greatest gift her husband could have given her, and Bella burrowed into his side, hugging him.

“You made me a tree bed.”

“A tree...bed?”

“This stone reminds me of the birches I climbed as a child.”

“Ah. This is limestone, from the River, but if you wish it to be a tree I can make it one.” His face turned thoughtful for a moment, but Bergdís squalled and Bella recognized the hunger in her daughter’s voice. Thorin left to fetch blankets from the outer room as Bergdís fed, and Bella sat staring at the flickering light on the walls, her free hand clenched around the small leather bag, fingers teasing the edge of her ring. Being in the strange world for so long had left her feeling detached, as though she were made of glass and everyone could still see through her. Shaking her head as her daughter finished with a gurgle, Bella stood and began to walk back and forth, patting Bergdís on the back and humming a song she had heard in the Market.

When Thorin had finished making up a bed, layers of blankets filling the hollow of the carved stone and more for them to lie beneath, he offered her a sleeping shirt and trousers made of finest wool, a set she recognized and had thought lost. Unabashed, Thorin shucked his robe as she changed. “How many of my clothes did you hide down here?”

“Just a few. There’s a lovely dress you might wear tomorrow I had made.”

“Oh yes?” They lay with Bergdís between them, watching their daughter sleep, her hand tangled in Thorin’s hair. “You are almost as sneaky as a hobbit, my love.”

“A high compliment indeed from a burglar.” Thorin covered her cheek and temple with his hand, running his calloused thumb along her jawline. “Sleep.”

“I cannot.” His eyebrows furrowed, but his gentle caress did not stop and Bella felt the tension leaving her body.

“Neither can I. Have you used your ring before like that since the battle?”

“No. I have been tempted, but there are always too many dwarves around me and I will not give up my secrets.”

“It frightens me that you can just...leave. That you might put it on and become injured, and I would never find you. That you could be kidnapped and it would be hours before we thought to think something is wrong, because we know about the ring.”

“That I have this power scares me too, Thorin, but it is mine, and it has helped us too many times for me to consider setting it aside lightly.” Bella closed her eyes and tightened her grasp on the leather bag in her hand. “You know I am careful.”

“No, you are my _shomakhîth_ still, and my Queen, racing to protect me from my enemies. I could not have asked for a better guardian at my back.” Thorin continued to stroke her cheek and jaw. Bella whined but turned into his caress, and he began to sing, of silver fountains and carven stone, but Bella faded into her dreams before she could make sense of the rest of his song.

_Shadows raced over the plains to the north, hiding the fledgling forest from her eyes until she faced a wave of darkness. It reared into the air until it was towering overhead, and Bella realised she stood on the very peak of Erebor, the wind whipping around her but her hair and clothes were still. The shadow grew and grew, until the very sky was black and Erebor stood alone, sunlight on the snow and rock, the rest of the land gone. Just as one of the flanks began to darken, the rocks disappearing into the void, she heard voices all around her, in all the languages she knew and some she did not, and they screamed with her as she drew Sting from the air and threw the blade as though it were a spear, watching the light hit the shadow and drive it back as she fell._

She woke with a inarticulate cry, thrashing against the weight of the blankets on her arms and chest, and Thorin was at her side in moments, holding her and letting her shake in his arms. “Shh, shh. I'm here.” His skin was warm underneath her cheek, and she gulped for air. Bergdís cooed from the other side of her husband, and Bella whispered what she had seen. “A good dream.”

“What?” Gasping, Bella fell back to the bed, but Thorin remained calm, brushing her damp hair back from her face.

“The darkness is growing, my love. But Erebor remained in the light, and your steel held it at bay. I received word today that our northern patrol encountered a large camp of Orc, and the fight was bloody. Over half our people fell, and they lay where they fell still, the rest too wounded to carry them.”

“Thorin!”

“I've sent half a battalion to meet them, and to recover our dead. But you see why I need to quell Narvi? We face great dangers even now. You take care of Erebor, and I will keep the borders safe.”

“I will.” Breathless at the news he had imparted, Bella did not hesitate to reaffirm the vow she had made when she had wed a King, and Thorin nodded before glancing over his shoulder at one of the fissures.

“It’s near dawn. I heard the chimes. They must have just finished repairing the station nearby.”

“One day we’re going to have some free time, and I’m going to make you, Glóin and Dori explain the water clock to me. But not right now.”

“Anything you wish to know, my Queen. Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Good. There should be breakfast waiting. And someone needs a bath.” Thorin wrinkled his nose, eyes fond, as he glanced back at his slumbering babe, her arms over her head.

“We could all use a bath. We need to get ready to face them.” Bella sat up, preparing for the confrontation, but Thorin shook his head even as he stood, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“We say nothing until I've got you safe, and the guard and army prepared.” He left to get them clothes as Bella gathered Bergdís close, waking her daughter and feeding her, trying not to think of the overwhelming future and grateful for the peaceful interlude Thorin had given her after a terrifying two days. When he entered, arms full of clothes, she was able to meet his eyes and smile, even though her heart still hurt, and the answering glow in his eyes was enough to assure her he still loved her, that she could earn forgiveness and that he still trusted her.

“What are you planning, if we will not confront him?”

“I need proof. You will describe the spy, and once we know he is inside Narvi's house, we will invade and catch them. Without such damning proof, few would believe my accusations.” They began to dress, and Bella held the new dress of green linen up with delight, seeing how the dress maker had mimicked hobbit style, with full skirts short enough to walk in and sleeves that could hide a dagger. Thorin laced her into it, kissing the back of her neck before turning his attentions to himself.

“Then finding Nori becomes more pressing.” Bella heard nothing, and saw the flare of Thorin's nostrils. “Thorin.”

“He left over a week ago for the Iron Hills to try and find any signs of Narvi's treachery. He left me a note.”

“Poor Ori has been worried out of his mind!” Tugging a borrowed cloak tight around her shoulders, Bella swept a stirring Bergdís into her arms with a kiss, and Thorin unsheathed Orcrist with a shrug.

“Ori is old enough to bear some discomfort for his kingdom.”

“That's not my point, and it is not you I am irritated with.” They went through the fissure, Thorin leading the way, his shoulders tensed. Bella reached out to brush a crystal to say goodbye, and thought she felt an answering heartbeat under her touch. Startled, she hastened to stay at Thorin’s side, but glanced behind in wonder, the rhythm tingling through her hand and arm and staying with her. The journey to the throne room was quick, and though Bella clung to her daughter, the early hour meant they saw no one in the large halls, though the sounds of mining and crafting filled the air. The heartbeat she had felt seemed to grow stronger, meshing with her own, until Thorin took her arm as they entered the throne room and found their guard waiting, axes and swords drawn to create a barrier at the door. And the duel throne, flanked by the Company, stood waiting with the Arkenstone gleaming, pulsing with light in a steady beat, and when Bella saw the heart of her Mountain beating in time with her own, she knew her victory was assured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, the Ring sucks. When the hell is Gandalf going to figure this all out and start the Quest?  
> [Bella’s true name inspiration](http://steampagan.tumblr.com/post/57672244417/campanula-alpina-little-bell-of-the-mountain)  
>  _Bundâlel Khar Sanabad Khulur_ – The leader of leaders to bridge the true peace


	11. Chapter 11a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin is forced to confront his fears in the aftermath of Bella's revelation, and finds his world falling apart as Erebor reacts.

No one knew what to say to the sight of their tiny Queen laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks, the Arkenstone pulsing faster as she covered her mouth. They all knew what she had done, and that she might be suffering battle frenzy occurred to Dwalin as he took two steps toward them, stopped by a shake of Thorin’s head. It was Bergdís who shocked Bella from her display, patting her mother’s cheeks and babbling something none of the dwarves could understand. Bella wiped her face and kissed her daughter’s face, turning to Thorin who had begun to smile.

“She’s cooing, Thorin, like a little bird. She’ll be talking in no time.”

“My sweet jewel.” Thorin bent down, letting Bergdís latch onto his beard with another burst of gurgling and nonsense sounds, bringing a smile to many faces including Dwalin’s. He watched his friends tend to their child, kissing her cheeks and smoothing the soft down on her head back, and wiped at his eye before he caused his own scene.

The happy moment passed when the King looked up as the jewel of Durin’s Line slowed in its regular pulse and stopped altogether, turning back into a cold gem as the inner fire faded. “You all heard?”

“Aye.” Balin nodded, his pain written across his face. Dwalin knew his brother would do anything his adopted daughter might ask of him, and hoped she had gained a measure of wisdom in her short time as Queen.

“Then we must plan.” Dwalin was pleased that Bella agreed to Thorin and Dís’ proposals, the siblings dividing tactical and diplomatic considerations between them. Bella held her daughter and clung to her husband’s hand, and only spoke in short sentences about what she had seen on the inside of the traitor’s house.

Dwalin still could not decide what he thought of that risk she had taken, but as they were able to finalize a plan he grudgingly allowed that the intelligence she had presented was priceless. The day was half over before he was able to leave to gather in his squad, walking with Bofur, Dwalin dared to hope that when Narvi was gone that Erebor would return to normal. But the sight of dozens of armed dwarves gearing themselves forced such hope from him. This raid, as necessary as it might be, was going to forever change the relationship between the throne and the subjects. Erebor was going to be a strange place for many years to come.

“Nugget for your thoughts, darling.”

“I only worry that he knows we come.” Dwalin grumbled, checking his vambraces and leather jerkin that was as tough as steel, letting his fingers linger on the embossing. He knew Bofur had spent hours designing the tunnel armor, making sure it would never make a noise to betray its bearer and hours more on the elaborate whorls that only a Broadbeam would be able to read. “And that we might endanger Bella further by our actions.”

“Aye, we might. But we might lose more by inaction. Let’s go trap another dragon in his lair, eh? Leave such dark thoughts to the King.”

“Aye.” Dwalin put his hand to Bofur’s moustache and tugged, letting the soft hairs tickle the palm of his hand before leaning forward and giving Bofur a quick kiss, ignoring the rest of the soldiers. Having found someone had made him appreciate the dangers of the job, but he was honored to serve his friend and King, and from the look Bofur was giving him, Dwalin had earned a good night if he survived the next few hours. “Right, everyone knows the plan. Let’s go the moment we get word.”

“Aye, Captain!” But among the salutes and quick response, Dwalin could only see the anguish on Bella’s face and gritted his teeth. Narvi would soon regret hurting the Queen, and Dwalin would be the one to carry out the vengeance of his sister. The battle rage was building and he needed an outlet, needed to bury Grasper and Keeper into a few skulls, but today he could not draw blood and the restriction rankled his instincts even when he knew Thorin was right. The clock station in the barracks had rung out the hour three times before Regin appeared in the doorway and nodded.

“The spy is in his house. My men are watching all exits. You can go.”

“Thank you, captain.” Dwalin saluted his counterpart and turned to Bofur. “You have the description memorized?”

“I do. He will not escape.”

“And Regin, the throne room needs you now.” The helmed dwarf nodded, hiding his disappointment. They had argued earlier and Regin had only bent his head when Dwalin had spoken of his fear of more traitors unknown in the Court and that the Queen might be in danger. “As for the rest of you, follow me.” The sounds of marching filled the air, but not so loud that they would alert the traitor. Dwarves hurried out of the way of the soldiers, faces blank but eyes darting with worry. The suspicion infected Dwalin, but with Bofur beside him he was able to keep calm and moving. He thought he had concealed his own thoughts until Bofur spoke.

“Steady, _ghivashel_.” Bofur murmured as they clattered up a ramp and entered one of the residential streets, the doors here still shiny and new, undecorated except for their elaborate brackets, with discreet carvings of sigils that proclaimed the inhabitants were of the nobility. Narvi’s ancestral home was near the end, looking out over a dramatic series of limestone stalactites. Dwalin grunted in response to Bofur’s admonishment, but his shoulders relaxed as he entered the calm state where he could see attacks before they happened, and delivered a booming knock on the heavy doors as his handpicked guards uncoiled grapnels and scaled the elaborate face. They would make sure there were no secret entrances up above, and cover the street from attack while the rest were inside. Dwalin knocked again, listening for the bolts giving way and finally rewarded after a long wait. Narvi himself stood in the doorway, and with a roar Dwalin kicked the door inward, tackling the older dwarf as the rest, led by Bofur, swarmed inside, overwhelming the few guards present in moments. Grinning, Dwalin manacled Narvi as the noble protested.

“This is an outrage, Captain! Unhand me!”

“Give up the spy and I’ll think about giving you a private cell. Otherwise it’s into the open pens with the troublemakers.”

“What right do you have?”

“My King and cousin’s orders for one. As we both took the oath of fealty when we accepted his gifts, that makes us equally responsible for remaining loyal. I obey. Do you?”

Narvi said nothing for a long moment, and when he opened his mouth, his voice was rough. “I am loyal to the line of Durin! And that you and Thorin and the rest support such an imposter, a rot growing at the very heart of us, is beyond me! And I have seen her flirting with her nephews while they walk the sacred halls of our ancestors. She is wanton...” Dwalin could hear nothing more of his cousin’s rant, his heart deafening him to all as he leaned back, bringing his arm around to punch Narvi as hard as he could. The warrior cocked his arm to deliver another blow when Bofur’s strong embrace was around him, pinning Dwalin’s arms to his sides as other guards swooped in, hauling the bleeding and stunned prisoner away from the raging Dwalin. Ignoring the chaos, Bofur brought his forehead to Dwalin’s and whispered in his lover’s scarred ears.

“He’s not worth it, Dwalin. Our job here is not done. Thorin is positive there is written proof somewhere.” Struggling for a moment, Dwalin mastered his rage with deep breaths, leaning into Bofur’s chest for support.

“Did you find the spy?”

“Hidden in a chest with a false bottom. Clever, but not clever enough.” Dwalin glanced up as a string of dwarves in chains was led away, the one at the head of the line already showing a black eye but otherwise unremarkable. Bofur growled. “They had an inking of the Ironfist renegades hidden under their hair. Otherwise I would swear they were born in the Iron Hills.”

“That’s not outside the realm of possibility, my love.” Dwalin shivered as the berserk rage drained away, leaving him near defenseless. “I’ll want you there when we question them both.”

“I’m not sure I can hold my own anger in check if he keeps talking about Bella like he was.” Bofur gave Dwalin a brief kiss and stepped back. “I’m going to start in his study.”

“Where’s Ori? And my brother?”

“Here.” Balin stepped forth, Ori as his side with fists clenched and face red. “I didn’t want to honor the traitor with my gaze. Bella is on her way.”

“We can’t bring her in here until I’ve cleared it!” Dwalin snarled. “It’s not safe.”

“With all of us at her side?” Balin shook his head. “Dís has the princess and Thorin’s _shomakhîth_ are attending their duty. And we need her to tell us where Narvi stood, what he touched, not to mention her reading skills.”

“And my company, I hope.” Bella stood in the doorway and Dwalin could not help the smile he returned as she walked to his side. “Thorin sends his gratitude. He was afraid he would kill Narvi if he fled or gave lip.”

“I came close enough, my Queen. You were correct, however. He claimed to still be loyal to Thorin and Erebor. “

“I hope that misguided anger led him to be less than careful.” Bella accepted Balin’s arm. “He was in the study.” Dwalin followed his brother and Queen, making them wait until he and Regin decided the room was safe enough. Word of the raid would have reached even the deep mines now and Regin left to set up several perimeters. Humming, Bella went to the desk, examining it with care, Dwalin at her side as she ran her hands over the smooth marble until she reached for a box of exquisite mithril set with Narvi’s house sigil. “He touched this three times during their conversation.”

“Let me open it, my Queen.” Dwalin lifted the latch with a knife, listening for any traps arming themselves, and threw the lid back while shielding Bella. Cut gems shone under the candlelight, but Dwalin pushed the treasure aside impatiently, finding a smaller box of iron that disgorged a leather journal. “Balin.”

“That is a very old symbol of Gundabad. Let me read it. Well remembered, Bella. Where did you stand while you watched him?”

“At the doorway in that little niche under the vase.” She demonstrated, gazing out with faraway eyes. “The spy stood close to where Ori is, and Narvi sat at the desk. The spy was angry. He paced, kicking at the carpet and the desk at one point, which angered Narvi in turn.” Ori knelt where she pointed, pushing his hands on the engraved stone panels.

“This desk was in his family for a long time. It would not surprise me if it contains many secrets. “ Balin glanced up as Bella stepped from her erstwhile hiding place and continued to page through the journal in his hands. “This is mostly household records, but there are mentions of trades I’d like to pursue further.”

“Sir!” A junior guard darted into the room. “There’s a group outside asking for the Lord Bofur.” Bofur looked confused and left to follow. Dwalin caught Bofur’s arm before he left and drew the shorter dwarf into a kiss.

“Be careful. They could be partisans of Narvi’s or the Ironfists.”

“I’ll be careful, _ghivashel_.” Cuffing Dwalin on the arm, Bofur grinned before turning to leave. Dwalin found his brother grinning and Bella dabbing at her eyes with a wispy lace handkerchief he had ordered for her as a wedding present.

“Not a word.”

“About what?” Balin bent over his reading once more as Bella smiled mischievously, tucking her gift into her sash. The room was silent for a time until Ori gave a soft cry. Dwalin turned and saw a dark opening at one of the huge legs of the desk.

“Let me, Ori.” Easing his long dagger free, Dwalin knelt and ran the blade along the walls of the secret compartment. A chest of silver, once again covered in Narvi’s sigil, was disgorged and lay on the floor. “Everyone step back.” Dwalin flipped the latch and his breath caught in his throat. A scroll, bound with a single ribbon, sat on top of the largest bar of mithril he had ever seen, imprinted with the seal of the Ironfists.

“Ori, you found it!” Balin peered over Dwalin’s shoulder and the warrior heard his brother’s teeth grinding in anger.

“Bella, come with me. I’ll feel better when you’re back to safety.” The Queen hesitated and Dwalin lowered his eyebrows at her.

“Very well, brother. Ori, will you instruct your trusted clerks to take over the search? I doubt they’ll find much more, but any detail might help if he refuses to cooperate.” Ori nodded, and Bella gave him a hug as Dwalin coughed into his fist. “Thank you. Your clever fingers may have saved us all.”

Shaking his head, Balin took Bella’s arm and escorted her outside, where they found Bofur still speaking to the miners. When Bella appeared, they all nodded their heads deeply, clutching their belts and rough miner’s jackets.

“ _Muhudinh_! We found something for you.” Bofur waved his hand and the group fell silent as Bella smiled, her knuckles white on Balin’s arm, as Bofur rejoined them.

“Bella, did you tell anyone outside your guards about your suspicions?” Voice hushed as he walked closer, Bofur’s face was closed and guarded, but Dwalin saw the suppressed hope in his beloved’s eyes and nearly reached out his hand, stopping only because there were too many threats visible to take time for such a gesture.

“Of course not!” Bella sounded scandalized. “And I trust my guard to the last dwarf.”

“They know somehow. And they found where the spy was leaving messages for Narvi, near the fifth mine. We never thought it odd he would be seen down there often. The miners have had him under surveillance before Bergdís was born.”

“Let me speak to them privately.” Dwalin and his brother both voiced their disapproval in unison, but Bofur gave Dwalin a quick glance, shaking his head.

“We can trust them. Besides, Regin took all their weapons.” Bella stepped away and stood by the miners, her hands clasped in front of her waist and her back stiff. Standing on the balls of his feet, Dwalin eased his axes free even as he pressed his hip to Bofur’s, his lover relaxing into him for a moment.

“Settlers?”

“Mixed group, some from the Blue Mountains too. They wouldn’t tell me how they knew.” Bofur leaned on his mattock and pushed his hat back on his head. “Maybe they’ll tell her.” Bella was nodding slowly, her shoulders tensing, but she didn’t move her hands to summon aid, and Dwalin felt like he was chained to the wall behind him. He would never forget Thorin’s anger at the Company when she had disappeared from the Mountain a second time, most of it directed at his _shomakhîth_ and his Captain.

Finally the Queen moved, taking the leader’s hands in hers and giving the miners a nod of respect before leaving them as they bowed their beards near the ground. Letting out his breath, Dwalin stood between her and the passageway as she leaned against Balin’s shoulder and tried to smile at them. But the Queen seemed to grow as she started to speak. “Let’s go home and tell Thorin what we’re found before the questioning begins. Leave Narvi to his imagination for a while.” Bofur shivered and Dwalin was hard pressed to hold his face still as her cold eyes swept over them. Her hand was over her sash, tightening, but she took a deep breath and the friend they knew stood before them once again. Ori fell in with Bofur, carrying the incriminating box.

“Have you noticed moments like that before?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” The scholar bit his lip, but Dwalin felt his curiosity stir.

“Why do you ask? It’s that look in her eyes, isn’t it?”

“It’s probably nothing.” Glancing down at the chest, Ori took a deep breath that shook his frame. “I just don’t like to see her like that.”

“It’s not good to find out someone has been plotting with one’s enemies.” Dwalin grunted. “I hope she’s satisfied with her answers.” Ori’s hand shook, but he mastered himself.

“And the King.”

 

Reporting to Thorin and delivering the proof of Narvi’s treachery left Dwalin with a sour stomach. The proclamation had been drafted by Balin, who was now adding details with Ori’s help, while Thorin sat to the side, holding Bella tight to his chest with a faraway look in his eyes. The King’s study was too quiet, the two scribes keeping their voices low and the scratching of their pens the only sound. Bofur leaned against the closed door, cleaning his nails with a dagger, and Dwalin joined his lover, unable to sit still another moment. It took Bofur a long moment to acknowledge his arrival, but Dwalin was patient and Bofur rested his head on Dwalin’s broad shoulder with a sigh.

“Where did you go, my miner?”

“Wondering who else Narvi and the Ironfists corrupted.” Bofur shifted and Dwalin could feel Bofur’s anger spike before his lover buried it deep. He had long ago learned that Bofur’s cheerful nature often masked strong feelings.

“I can’t believe more than some other misguided few.” Shifting his position, Dwalin closed his eyes. “I’ll have to rely on Nori for this, I’m afraid. I hope Raka finds him soon.” Bofur laughed, but he and the poacher had always had a strange friendship and Dwalin knew not to air his old dislike for the lawbreaker. Nori had proved himself enough, and deserved a fresh chance in their new home.

“Come to bed, my love. We’ve both trying days in front of us and we need all the sleep we can get.” Trying to stop his cheeks from burning, Dwalin squeezed Bofur’s hand and glanced at the rest of the group.

“You just want to sleep?” Bofur’s answering grin was enough to send a shiver of desire up Dwalin’s spine and the taller dwarf ground his teeth. Another voice broke into their conversation, and both swung around to face their king.

“Go, Dwalin. Fíli’s on the door with Regin.” Knowing the prince was punishing himself, no matter what his mother or aunt said about his culpability in obeying Bella’s plans, Dwalin decided to stay silent, no matter that he would have done the same for his tiny sister had she asked.

“Brother, I pass our cousin’s safety to you.” His brother glanced up and waved his hand, before patting the stave at his side.

“Get on with you. I’ll see you at the morning meal.”

“That I can promise.” Bofur drawled and Dwalin muttered a curse, ducking his head as Bella giggled and Balin chuckled. Even Thorin had the gall to smile.

“When are you two going to say the vows in front of Mahal?”

“When you stop asking, brother.” Dwalin pushed the door open and Bofur grinned before sneaking out his hand to pinch Dwalin’s bottom.

“And when we have more than ten minutes to ourselves instead of worrying about you lot. Get moving, you lug.”

“I will lug you up the corridor if you try that again.”

“Try it and see what happens.” Bofur led him a merry chase back to their rooms, and Dwalin pushed aside all his anger as he pinned his miner to their door, pushing his leg between Bofur’s thighs and pinning his hands to the rough wood.

“I need you.”

“Thought I made it obvious enough I do too, you daft lump. Get inside.” Bofur chuckled his dark, velvet chuckle, biting Dwalin’s lower lip, and they fell into their rooms in a tangle of limbs and laughter. Bofur managed to kick the door shut even as Dwalin started to strip him, tugging off his boots and trousers with quick hands. Somehow they made it to the bed, shedding clothes behind them as they grappled with the other, kissing and biting at exposed skin. Bofur flipped Dwalin to his back, kissing his way down Dwalin’s inked chest, braids tickling overheated skin until Dwalin could take no more and reversed their positions, straddling Bofur’s hips.

“I love you.” Bofur only smiled and drew Dwalin into a kiss, leaving them both gasping when he released Dwalin’s hair from his grasp.

“I love you too, darling. And you’ve got me aching for you.”

“Keep begging, I like it.” Dwalin grabbed his cock as Bofur laughed, his open thighs revealing his plump ass and stiffening member. It was a beautiful sight and Dwalin drank it in, dropping one hand to his cock. It was limp and lifeless in his hand.

Despite the knot of desire in his belly and the gorgeous sight of a naked Bofur sprawled on the bed willing and waiting, nothing was happening. His ears started to burn and he dropped his hands to his side, falling back to the edge of the mattress.

“I can’t.” Instead of the recrimination Dwalin expected to see in Bofur’s eyes, he saw only worry and understanding as his lover propped himself up in his elbows.

“You’re too fresh from battle to focus and you’re stressed. I’m not angry, love. Why don’t you go bash some recruit’s heads in for a while and work the blood rage off?”

“If you’ll still be here when I get back.” Bofur stretched in the bed like a cat, muscles moving in interesting ways that Dwalin could have watched all night.

“I am not leaving this bed until you’re back here with me. I’m exhausted.”

“Sleep, you boneheaded miner, and I promise a better time soon.” His only answer was a false snore and a wink, but Dwalin fled before his shame could catch him, his steps carrying him to towards the barracks and training grounds. And there were plenty of young unblooded warriors waiting to be taught some humility, until Dwalin could feel the knot in his chest loosen and his heart slow back to normal. No one asked him about Narvi or the raid, but Dís must have made her announcement by now and started the meetings with every guild and noble. He did not envy her.

When he got back to their rooms to bathe, Bofur was still snoring, one arm tangled in the sheets and his legs halfway over the edge of the mattress. He did not wake even when Dwalin readjusted the bedding, and only moved when Dwalin lay next to him, to turn and curl into the new source of warmth. With a soft kiss to Bofur’s forehead, Dwalin tried to sleep but lay awake for too long until sliding into muddy nightmares that left a sour taste in his stomach that did not leave the next morning when he found no sign of Nori and a kingdom in uproar.

Rumors swirled everywhere, and Dwalin ordered more patrols in the public spaces and especially near the Royal Wing, keeping passages there blocked. He could taste the fear and stayed away from his prisoners until he was sure of his temper. There was no sign of Raka or Nori; tensions between his brothers and the King were starting to show. Erebor felt like a battlefield the night before a skirmish. Bella, who had always seemed like one of the crickets that kept miners safe from bad air, could not even leave her chambers without looking ill. The one time Dwalin had watched her try and enter the throne room she had fallen to her knees and had to be helped to her bed by Fíli and Ori. And there was still no word from the Iron Hills.

 

Two days after the raid, Dwalin made his way back to his office, which guarded the few cells they found necessary for those who refused to back down to his guards. All they needed was a night in the cells to sober up, and the shame that their names were reported to the King and Queen as transgressors was often enough. Thieves were rare, when gold coins by the bag could be had by asking one of Balin’s clerks, and justice was often handed out by the shopkeeper or trader’s fists with no need for official interference. Dwalin approved of such a system, Bella’s protests notwithstanding.

Dwarves, despite what the other races might think of them, found more satisfaction in using their laws to create contracts and use gold as punishment rather than resort to violence against each other. Except in the case of three crimes, all considered equally heinous, and thus capital. Murder, rape and treason. A violation of trust and abomination in the eyes of the Valar. The sentence was always death, and often there was no trial unless there were questions about the circumstances. Killing in self-defense was not murder. But loyalty had to be absolute. Even Thráin and Thrór, bound in their madness, had been obeyed until they themselves had passed on their crown.

Narvi’s treason ought, therefore, be a simple case for Thorin. But Dwalin knew the complications. The traitor still claimed he had not violated his oaths to the Line of Durin. Bella was a hobbit, and despite her marriage and crown, the beads and braids in her hair and the words An had said before Mahal, there had been no precedent Balin and Ori could find of the vows applying to one not a dwarf. Privately, Dwalin admitted even now he treated his Queen differently, excused what could be deadly insults, because he knew the intent behind her actions was pure.

Once they knew the extent of Narvi’s actions, perhaps the animosity to the Queen could be downplayed with greater transgressions against Crown and Mountain. He knew he was avoiding the real issue before him. Finding the extent was going to be unpleasant at best, and downright gruesome at worst. There were many ways to hurt even a dwarf, and he hated that he knew most of them. How could Thorin trust him with his daughter again once Dwalin had let Narvi’s blood stain his hands? Battle was one thing, awful as it was, but he never woke with night terrors like many. Warriors, after their first fight, understood what they were getting themselves into. Prisoners, even a traitorous worm like Narvi, were defenseless. Times like this a dwarf needed a stiff belt of whiskey or mead, and Dwalin’s hand dipped down towards his flask when the door burst open and he almost toppled over in his chair before he saw Ori skidding to a halt, waving several pieces of parchment in the air.

“Dwalin, you have to see this!” Dwalin lowered his dagger and set it on the desk, shaking his head.

“Living with Nori should have taught you better...” Ori interrupted, his voice loud and angry as his voice rode over the top of Dwalin’s.

“The Arkenstone! They were going to steal the Arkenstone!” The little scribe thumped Narvi’s journal down on the granite slab between them and pointed to the drawing of the new throne, with exits marked around the dais. Stunned, Dwalin could only sit in silence as Ori outlined the entire plan, the warrior’s hands trembling in his lap. “And leave evidence that Bella had aided them. I don’t know how because Narvi didn’t know all the details himself.”

“And the sabotage?”

“All here. All their dirty plans. Except for those who gave the order.”

“Lad, you’ve saved me.” Dwalin let out a shaking sigh. “They don’t have to confess a thing and Thorin can do what he wants.”

“I’m glad to help. The thought of them... _touching_ the throne, the Arkenstone, turns my stomach. They would have slit throats and dumped the bodies over the dais to hide them from Mahal.”

“You saved many lives, Ori, and I will make sure the King knows.” Dwalin reached out his hand and clasped Ori’s upper arm.

“I will inform him myself. I have something else to share with him.”

“Thank you. May I?”

“I made copies for you.” Ori shuffled some papers, his normal calm returning despite the flush in his cheeks. “I hope the traitor cracks when he sees this.”

“So do I.” Dwalin flipped through the report after his friend had left, Ori’s clean hand sometimes stabbing into the paper when describing some of the plans of murder and sabotage. Mineshafts filled with water diverted from the plumbing, forges tampered with to burn entire guilds from their ancient caves. Bile rose in his throat. This would destroy Erebor and her dwarves with more cunning and anger than a thousand fire drakes. Standing, Dwalin checked his axes. It was time to talk to the twisted minds that had come too close to succeeding.

In the private cells, behind three thick doors and entirely separate from the main cellblock, Dwalin found Narvi and the unnamed spy waiting for him. He looked forward to shoving in Narvi’s smug face.

“Would you like to tell me anything more this morning?” Silence answered him, but Dwalin only made a show of flipping through a few papers, walking closer to Narvi’s cell. Waiting until he saw Narvi settle back into his thin mattress, Dwalin slapped his hands against the bars and had the satisfaction of watching both prisoners jump. “If you’re sure. We don’t really need your statement any more, traitor. We’ve found the plans to steal the Arkenstone.”

“Liberate.”

“Do not twist words at me. My brother might appreciate the difference, but I do not. The Arkenstone is Thorin’s, by birthright and law, and his possession of it has nothing to do with his Queen.” Dwalin slammed his hand into the bars again, spinning to face the spy. “And you, nameless one, we do not even need the plans to order your death. Tell us who planned these deeds. Give us their names and your death will be swift.” It was the only detail missing, and the one that Dwalin knew Thorin wanted most. The dwarf only laughed and spat between Dwalin’s feet.

“We’ve held this from your peers, Narvi. But I will inform the King that it is time for all to know how you tried to topple Erebor. And I look forward to the Queen deciding your sentence.”

“She is the blight on Erebor! Not me!”

“You broke iron and worse. Bella brings growth and an heir to Durin’s line. I go to my King now to tell him it is time for the kingdom to learn of the drake in their midst.”

“Lies.”

“We have the journal written in your own hand, known to us all.” Dwalin laughed, forcing merriment despite the knots in his belly. “Like I said, we no longer require a confession. I will give you a day for those names and then I think it will be time to plan your execution.” Neither prisoner responded to his last taunts, and Dwalin left to allow Narvi’s imagination to do his torture for a while longer. He walked through the row of empty cells and back into his office only to find his seat occupied by a grinning dwarf with three points in his red hair.

“Unbelievable.”

“I always find my way back somehow, Dwalin.” Nori dropped his feet from the granite slab and grinned. “Did you all miss me?”

“Did Raka find you?”

“On my way back, aye. She filled me in and I ran my pony into the ground only to find Narvi arrested and a spy found.”

“And his plans to steal the Arkenstone.” Nori swore and Dwalin handed over Ori’s report, finally going for his flask and taking a swig of the harsh whiskey inside. He tipped the leather bound metal towards Nori, who took the offering without moving his eyes from the page.

“This is a good plan. Good chance of success.”

“That’s what I thought.” Dwalin looked at Nori taking his ease in his office and sighed. “I begin to think the sons of Austri regard this office as their own.”

“Ori?”

“Who else? He has little of your cunning and too much blind courage sometimes.”

“Just like his da, then.” Nori laughed, but his hand was tight on his dagger and he scowled. “I have heard most of the happenings. Where were you just now?”

“Talking to my prisoners.”

“You questioned them together?” Nori shook his bright head and sighed. “You lot are far too honorable for your own good. Let me have an hour alone with Narvi. I will not touch a hair on his head but I think I can get the names.”

“Why would I question them apart?”

“So you can lie to them and get them to turn on each other, my Captain.”

“I will let Thorin give that order. We’ll try tomorrow if he grants permission.”

“Are you not charged with their custody? I have already promised not to touch either of them.”

“You never lived under a King of Erebor. The halls in the Blue Mountains had the laws they did because Thráin and Thorin did not have the power they were used to here. And I would not go against their wishes for anything.” Shoulders tight and jaw clenched, Dwalin tried to keep his rage suppressed but knew his voice was hardly more than a growl. “We can go make our case but I will not let you past those doors.” Nori’s dagger had eased out of its scabbard during Dwalin’s tirade, and they locked eyes for a breathless moment before they both looked away and lowered their hands.

“As you wish, Captain.”

 

Waiting for the end of the audience only increased Dwalin’s unease. Thorin was furious as he had not been since the death of his brother and Dwalin feared his cousin would find Nori’s proposal a good one. One the throne room was empty, the two dwarves left the alcove where they had been hiding and Bella leapt to her feet, beaming and holding out her hands. “Nori! I am so glad to see you!”

“Did you worry about me, my Queen?”

“We all did. What did you find in the Iron Hills?”

“Little of interest. He has no support among those who work his mine and Dain agreed to seize any of his assets for the line of Durin if we proved our case. You understand he could not take such an openly hostile stance against Narvi?”

“I do now.” Thorin nodded, his hand going out to stroke Bella’s braid on her neck. Nori and Dwalin both jerked their eyes away, and Thorin stepped back from his Queen after a moment. “But he did not understand the full situation with regards to Bella’s safety and I was in no mood to hear his doubts.”

“You must invite him and his son again once this is settled. I want Bergdís to have better relationships with her cousins than I did.” Bella adjusted her sleeves and nodded. “And you, Captain? What say your prisoners?”

“Nothing. Did Ori see you before they audience began?”

“He did.” Thorin made a curt gesture over Bella’s head and Nori frowned. Thorin had not told his wife of the plans. “And I am grateful. I want the mind behind our enemies.”

“I could get it for you if you let me question them apart. I swear I won’t touch a hair on their heads.”

“The threat of death did nothing to loosen their tongues!” Dwalin snarled.

“And so I will not use it.” Nori snapped back and Bella put her hands to her stomach, face paling.

“Brothers, please.” Both subsided and Thorin took Bella’s arm after she nodded assent.

“Come to the garden with us. The air is clearer there.” Thorin touched his ear and his Captain and spy nodded, following the royal couple back to Bella’s garden. A black cat was sleeping in the sun on one of the lavender beds, but otherwise all was still and quiet. Bella’s stiff posture relaxed as Thorin held the door for her, and she went among her trees and plants as the three dwarves made themselves comfortable in a bench. A small barrel produced fine leaf, and soon smoke rings danced towards Erebor’s snowbound peak. Once the business of packing bowls and the first few draws was over, Thorin cupped his pipe in one hand and sighed.

“She carries too much guilt for this entire disaster already.”

“It is not hers.” Nori’s free hand flexed around one of his curved knives, his sneer directed out at the landscape. “Surely she understands that.”

“Yet she shoulders it.” Thorin growled. “She sees her people throw into disarray and after a lifetime of rushing after others, she can not simply stop. She is young. All we can do is help her through these difficult days.” Dwalin stilled his frown and hid his mouth with his pipe, staring at the tips of his boots. “Neither prisoner will admit to Ori’s findings, Dwalin?”

“No.”

“Then tomorrow you will allow Nori his hour.”

“Today would be better, my liege.”

“Liege?” Thorin and Nori shared a brief smile. “If you start using proper titles I will become very worried.”

“It would be better today. Keep them off balance.”

“We’re all too angry.” Thorin’s eyes burned Dwalin as the king glanced over at his wife, who was on the other side of the garden, her nonsense song sweetening the air. “I can see it in all of us. Ori nearly punched one of the guards. He’s a fighter but that was unlike him. I have to let Bella speak in my place because I want to grab some of my dwarves by the throat and demand to know how they could doubt her.”

“Things will get better.” Dwalin folded his arms, letting his pipe sit as his side. “What he planned was disgusting. After Dís finishes laying out his plans to the nobles and guild leaders, all will scramble to pretend they supported you all along.”

“I hope so.” Thorin’s face changed, his eyes softening as he leaned forward. “ _Ghivashel_?”

“You all look so sad.” The Queen came forward, her hands full of a rainbow of flowers and her hair wreathed in lavender. “Here.” The flowers resolved into crowns for all of them. Thorin’s was woven of oak leaves and roses, sprinkled with lavender. He bent his head, allowing her to nestle his two crowns together, and caught her in a kiss before sitting back so she could tend to her brothers.

Dwalin’s was a tightly bound circle of meadow grass adorned with the soft growth from the young spruce tree at the far corner of the terrace. He knelt at his Queen’s feet in silence, allowing her to settle the gift into place.

“You are a marvel at your craft, sister mine.”

“And you at yours. I am grateful for your help these past days.” She gave his hand a fond squeeze and turned to Nori. But their spy broke the domesticity of the garden with his next words.

“There are those who think you should sentence him, Bella.” Nori accepted his crown of many petaled purple and yellow flowers, letting it settle over his high peaked hair. “Since you are Queen and look after Erebor.” Her face paled, but Bella gave a firm nod, her hands clasped at her waist. “This is what they say in the taverns and forges.”

“I will look into it. Surely there are records of previous decisions.”

“I will inform my brother to send you them.” Nori stood and bowed over her hand before leaving. Dwalin watched his Queen, waiting for the fear and panic he knew she felt to show, but she had changed much in her reign and the only sign of discomfort she gave was a quirk of the lips before her face turned serene.

“While we wait, I believe Bombur procured a few elk from the hunters and promised a hearty meal. I think everyone would like to be together tonight.” Both Dwalin and Thorin touched their crowns, but stilled themselves as Bella put on her own, small blue flowers twined among the gems and golden wire. “There. We won, and I do not wish to think of anything else tonight.”

“You won, _ghivashel_.” Thorin rose and offered his arm, drawing her close and kissing her forehead. “And saved your people from disaster. Sit at the head of the table tonight.” Dwalin had to look away, his sister and Queen’s face incandescent. His crown tickled his bare head but he was grateful for the distraction. The uncertainty of the last years was close to an end. As he followed his leaders from the airy garden to the grandeur of the dining hall, he held his head high and walked with deliberate steps. Let those who doubted say what they wish. Tonight, his family had declared their triumph, and if tomorrow they had to fight again, he would be proud to stand at their side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been dogging at me for far too long, and so I split it in two to make it manageable. I am close to being done with the second half and that should be posted next weekend, the muse willing. Thank you for staying with me. There is more to come.


	12. Chapter 11b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin faces his fear and Erebor begins to move past the treachery of the past year.

Dwalin woke alone, but Bofur’s cheerful note on the bathroom mirror set the tone for his day as he prepared himself. Last night had been good for the kingdom, Bella presiding over the meal enough to convince most she was still in control and keeping to her duty. But she had been ill at ease, and had left early. Grasper and Keeper went into their scabbards over his shoulders, the harness fitting over his elaborate tunic. Grabbing a roll from yesterday’s breakfast from the pantry, he ate while walking towards his office. He spotted more dwarves from the Queen’s Guard than he was used to seeing at this hour, but it wasn’t until he saw Regin leaning against the wall did Dwalin actually count and realize the entire contingent was in the area. Bella glanced up from a sheaf of papers in her hand as Dwalin pushed into his office and sat at his desk. “Morning, Bella.”

“Morning. I made you some cookies.” Dwalin’s eyes went to the plate piled high and had one in his mouth before his thoughts caught up with his hand.

“What do you want, lass? It’s not fair to bribe me.”

“My, the dance of Court has infected you too.” Bella hefted a large basket onto her arm, shaking her head. "I couldn’t sleep last night, so I baked. Everyone is getting some today.”

“I apologize.” Dwalin bent his head to her, trying to hide his burning ears. “You’re right, the past few days have me on edge. Thank you.” She dimpled her smile at him, her beads catching the light from the lanterns overhead. One of them was inscribed with the sigils of his house and she put her hand to it, making Dwalin realize he was staring.

“I’ve been doing research. There are few instances of treachery. Execution seems to be the method of punishment but I think it would make him a martyr to my enemies.” Her voice was sad and Dwalin offered her a cookie, smiling as she accepted and nibbled at one edge as she stared off into the distance.

“How would your people deal with this?”

“I don’t know. Banishment, maybe.” Bella ducked her head, voice dropping. “I’ve been trying to think about it but instead I bake.”

“You’ve sentenced dwarves to the cells before.”

“That’s entirely different and you know it!” She glared up at him, hands planted into her hips. “And this is too personal. Almost everyone knows now. I just want him to give us the names Thorin wants so badly and be done with this."

“Then I will do what I can for you, my Queen.” Dwalin stood and gave her the full bow of respect, fist over his heart. She nodded back, face calm, but her lower lip trembled.

“Are you really going to torture him?”

“Only if I must. With the journal and the spy, we have a lot of leverage over him and his reputation. He might cooperate if we agree to keep some details private. We do have a lot of evidence, Bella. A confession might not be necessary.”

“Thorin said it would make a trial easier. I will pray that he talks.” She gave Dwalin a quick hug and started to leave, putting her papers into her basket and carrying the handle on one arm.

“Balin should be in his offices. I’m sure he’d like to see you.” Bella shot him a grateful smile and the hallway was empty in moments, the clank of her guard’s armor telling Dwalin she was heading for the offices where the clerks labored and Balin ruled. Dwalin closed his eyes before turning the opposite direction, unlocking the heavy door that led down to the cell block. He had agreed to take the spy to an outer cell and wait for Nori. The rest of the cells were empty now, the few miscreants pardoned to allow Dwalin to focus on the traitor. The stronger cells hid behind another door and Dwalin locked it behind him before going to the first cage, expecting to find Narvi demanding to be released. The bed was smooth and empty.

No sign of his prisoner remained.

Roaring his anger, Dwalin spun and found the next cell just as empty. Part of his brain was already making plans to find the way they had escaped and how to hunt them down. Most of him could only scream his rage. Someone pounded on the door and shouted his name, but Dwalin was beyond hearing anything. Keys turned in the lock and Nori leapt inside, knives in hand, dodging Keeper with ease. The axe chunked into the swinging door and Dwalin let go of the handle, gasping.

“Dwalin! Calm down!”

“They got away!” Dwalin snarled, his rage already fading at the shock of the near miss. The former thief stepped into the room, assessing everything with quick moves of his head. Finally he nodded.

“They burned their way out.” Nori touched the bars of the near cell, sniffing the air. “Or someone burned them out. Ah!” He touched the door and it swung inward. “Just the bolt, see? Very neat, very quick.”

“And hot.” Dwalin pointed to the ground, where cooled metal droplets had etched the stone floor. “That’s a good alchemist, right there. As good as Dori, for sure." And a weapon that terrified him. Even an army would step warily around one with such knowledge.

“Have him check his workshop. Make sure they didn’t try and frame him.” Nori scowled. “I told Thorin making new exits was an invitation to my kind.”

“A few thieves is a price worth paying if the Front Gate is overwhelmed again.” Dwalin took a shuddering breath, craving Bofur’s lips and easy laugh. “I will go tell him. You see to your brother before anyone else make the same connection. I imagine Thorin will want all of us in the throne room in a few moments.”

“Where is Bella?”

“Probably with my brother.”

“Good.” Nori’s eyes burned. “I wouldn’t put it past him to find another assassin, but I imagine escape was more important. I will go find Dori, after I inform the Queen.”

“At least her entire guard is with her today. Mahal!” Dwalin aimed one last kick at the bars and followed Nori back to his office, grabbing two of the cookies she had given him before going for the throne room. Thorin looked solemn, but Dwalin saw the boredom in his friend’s eyes as a delegate from the traders droned about renegotiating the treaty with the elves of Mirkwood. Dwalin flashed two quick _iglishmêk_ signs and Thorin interrupted the delegate with smooth words, clearing the throne room in moments before raising his eyebrow at his Captain.

"What is it?"

"Narvi and the spy are gone. Escaped." Thorin's face mottled red as he leapt to his feet, Orcrist already in his hand.

"Where is Bella?"

"Last I knew she was with Balin. I sent Nori to find her."

"Mahal, she was in the kitchens all night with only Bombur and Regin..." Thorin sheathed Orcrist as the Queen's Guard poured through the side entrance, followed by Bella on Nori's arm, Balin hefting his mace behind them. Dwalin watched his rulers come together, their masks falling to show the fear that tightened his own stomach.

"Bergdís?" In answer to the Queen's whimpered question, Dís arrived holding her namesake, flanked by her sons who had been on the main doors. Bella ran to her sister, grabbing her daughter and holding her close. "Dís, my sister, thank you for watching her last night."

"Did the baking help?" Dís guided Bella back to the throne and made her sit, the Queen's trembling betraying her fear.

"For a while. Oh, Thorin, what are we going to do?" Thorin had sat next to her, one hand hiding his face and the other groping forward to clasp his wife's tiny hand.

"Tell us everything, Dwalin." Thorin listened intently, pausing only to take Queen and Princess both into his arms, holding Bella in one arm and Bergdís the other. Bella shuddered when Nori explained how the steel bolts had been melted but calmed herself.

"Then we will announce he was banished."

"I am not sure that will work. If his allies know he is still out there they might still support him. An execution serves to sever him from us and any potential sympathizers." Balin sighed, tucking his hands into his sleeves. His brother could see the battlefield of politics as clear as Dwalin saw weapon play, and everyone nodded as they saw the wisdom in his words.

"I don't like lying to our people, but I like the thought of others trying the same less." Thorin growled and pulled Bella's head into his chest, his face twisted, and for the briefest of moments Dwalin saw the madness of possession in his friend's eyes. But it was gone the next time he blinked, and as the Company arrived they spent the next hour making plans, deciding who to buy and who could be trusted to spread the lie. Dwalin was waiting for Bofur, who had decided to find the miners acting in Bella's name and see if there was any more physical evidence that could be used to strengthen Thorin's charges, and he was not disappointed. Bofur slipped into the room with a rough wooden box, covered in dirt; it was the work of moments for Nori to open the lock. "Found it near where Narvi was leaving those messages. Some of the miners were poking around, trying to find more when they uncovered a false wall."

"Clever." Nori grimaced. "And right under my damn nose."

"Under mine too. I'm down there near every day and I never had a hint." Bofur flung the lid back and Dwalin stepped forward, craning his neck to see what had been so important to the traitors. A multitude of vials and bottles were nestled in rough burlap, and Dori joined his brother, holding various containers to the light and shaking his head.

“Our mysterious alchemist. I wonder if I could reconstruct their mix.”

“Worth a try. We could always look for a method to counter this concoction.” Nori grinned. "Cutting through steel might come in handy at some point."

“A well thought out plan. Striking at all vulnerable points at once.” Bofur was shaking his head, keeping an eye on the throne where the Princes were trying to convince Thorin to send out the army to hunt the traitor. Dwalin knew there were greater concerns and Thorin was still focused on Gundabad and the loss of his soldiers in the North. If the threat against his Queen was over, the King had other responsibilities.

All of his musings sounded like Balin inside Dwalin’s mind, cool and rational against the berserker who demanded vengeance. For even planning what he had, Narvi deserved a public trial and exile. Bella, all of them, deserved closure, and justice. She had been denied twice now, by both her peoples, and she looked lost as she sat with her husband and child, her fingers tracing over her sash in an endless loop. Dwalin turned and found Bofur looking at him with a small smile, leaning on his mattock, hat pushed back on his head. Caught in his eyes, Dwalin's heart slowed and his lungs took deep breaths, calming him and showing him there was another angle to consider, one Thorin and Balin must have seen.

Narvi would be dealt with later, if he ever was, but he was gone. Once he was presumed dead, if he were seen in Erebor there would be an outcry and he would be found. And Dwalin would not have to torture anyone. The knot in his heart loosened and disappeared, as the conversation around him faded back into clarity.

“It came close to working. It will be the work of months, years, to undo the damage the traitor wrought. I only find solace that in death Mahal will judge him.” Dori sniffed, putting the bottles away with care.

“And his ancestors.” Dwalin let out a pained breath. He hated everything about this. The escape, the hidden plots, had changed Erebor from the haven it had always represented and become a pit of intrigue. Without looking at him, Bofur took his hand and squeezed.

"Steady. When all believe he is dead, they will stop giving his lies any credence and Thorin can try and move us forward together."

"Deep thoughts for a miner."

"Who else better?" Bofur countered, but his smile said more and Dwalin knew it was only a matter of time before he would weave his braids on Bofur's head and claim him before Mahal. He needed Bofur to keep steady in this new kingdom, else he would lose his center and stop trusting everyone.

"Who indeed. Come back home with me, _ghivashel_. I am ready to prove myself now. No one can keep me from you."

"I will see you lads later." Bofur stepped with deceptive calm, his eyes bright. "I feel the need for some peace before we announce this tomorrow."

"Get on with you, both of you." Nori flipped his dagger in the air and sheathed it, turning back to the throne. "Else Dwalin might explode."

"I'll make him pay for that." Dwalin growled even as he took Bofur's hand in his and ducked out one of the side doors. The short passageway that led to the stairs was empty, but Dwalin could hear the Market below, buzzing with hundreds of voices.  
"Don't threaten when you know you'll never follow through. And hurry up. I've been saving myself for you."

"I did not need to know that.” Dwalin nearly tripped over the first step, and Bofur’s grin did nothing to help his balance. “I’ll take you here if you don’t hurry.”

“I’ve always enjoyed a good tunnel romp.” Bofur dodged Dwalin's attempted tackle, waving his finger. "Ah ah, not anymore, Hero. We've got a reputation to uphold now."

"To Mandos with my reputation." Never had Dwalin been more grateful he had chosen new quarters, away from his ancestral halls where Balin was restoring every detail to match his memories, to have with Bofur alone. Especially when Bofur's belt came undone before they could unlock the door, his robe falling open to reveal his bare chest and the new inking that covered his shoulder. Dwalin bent his lips to his lover's bare neck, tasting the sweat and salt there, even as his arms trapped Bofur against the wall of the entrance hall.

“I’m going to make you beg.”

“Words.” Dwalin snarled into Bofur's silky hair, the beauty and weight of it free of braids close to overwhelming him. "Stop it." His cock ached, straining at his braies, and his formal robe was too constrained for the heat of his skin.

Kicking the door closed and latching it while fumbling with his own belt proved a challenge, especially when Bofur repaid the kiss on his damaged ear, but somehow Dwalin managed. Free of clothes moments later, save for his boots, Dwalin hoisted Bofur's body into the air and against the wall, kissing and biting at his neck and collarbones. He tasted of sweat and dirt and nothing could have been sweeter to Dwalin. He spared a hand to work Bofur's loose robe free and found nothing else to impede him, his lover naked and laughing.

"You first." The taunt overwhelmed Dwalin and he flexed one finger between Bofur's hairy asscheeks, teasing his tight hole and pushing inside after he gasped his request into Dwalin's scarred ear. Eager to obey, Dwalin dropped to his knees and took Bofur in his mouth, teasing Bofur with his hands and tongue until his lover was reduced to begging, running hands over Dwalin's bare pate and grasping at his ears. Finally taking pity on Bofur, Dwalin popped his lips away from Bofur's cock and pressed a kiss to his inner thigh.

"Come to bed."

"Not soon enough!" Bofur pulled Dwalin to the sheets, and pinned the larger dwarf down, nipping and lipping down Dwalin's inkings before straddling his hips and slathering his cock from the little tin perched at the bedside. Dwalin gasped, pressing his lips to Bofur's warm shoulder, closing his eyes and allowing his body to give itself over to pleasure. Once his lover was sheathed Dwalin's cock was lavished with attention from rough and strong hands, leaving him helpless, riding peaks and valleys of pleasure without end.

"Please, Bofur." Dwalin groaned into his forearm, his entire body tensed against the warmth of his lover and the thrusts that were too slow to provide release. Bofur gave in after another minute, and the two reached their peak together, falling to the sheets in a tangle of limbs. Gasping for breath, Dwalin pressed his lips to Bofur's salty skin, breathing in the scent of their seed. Bofur laughed and rolled over, draping one leg over Dwalin's waist and stretching like a cat.

"You are worth the wait." But Dwalin couldn't banter now. The past few days had made him all too aware how precarious their return to power had been. It was time to tell Bofur the truth.

"I love you." Dwalin cradled Bofur's face in his hands. "Thank you _ghivashel_. For staying with me. I want to put my braids on you "

"Of course." For once, Bofur was serious, though his dark brown eyes danced as he returned Dwalin's kiss. Dwalin felt himself drifting away and grabbed onto Bofur, falling into a dreamless sleep, his nose buried in Bofur's hair and their bodies pressed together. And Dwalin knew they would be together when they woke, no matter what.

 

Dwalin woke to someone pounding on the door and tried to hang onto Bofur, but his love was already rolling out of bed, a blanket wrapped around his waist. "Yes?" Whomever was on the other side was indistinct, gone in moments, and Bofur's face was locked in a frown as he closed the door behind him.

"We've been summoned to Court." Bofur dropped the blanket as he walked across the open chamber, braiding his hair with quick twists of his fingers. "And Bella asked that we come armed." They shared a look before dressing as fast as they could, tugging their sashes into place as they walked out the door. A steady stream of dwarves were making their way towards the throne room, but Dwalin and Bofur said nothing as they sped past them, only slowing down when they saw some of the Queen's guards. Today, they all had something bright clasped to the neck of their cloaks, but Dwalin dismissed that detail. He could ask Regin later. They found the throne room half full, dwarves milling on the dais and the walkways, the throne empty but for the dazzling Arkenstone. Kíli stood at the first step, his arms crossed and dark eyes glaring out at the gathering, but he shifted to allow his fellow Heroes space.

“What's happening?” Bofur turned to watch the new arrivals join the throng, leaning on his mattock with a casual grace that drew attention to his weapon. Dwalin couldn't hide his smile at his unsubtle miner.

“Uncle said he was going to make an announcement.” Kíli shifted on his feet, caressing his dagger. “I wish I knew what.”  
“What else could it be?” Dwalin snorted but Kíli shot him a glance from behind his hair.

“I mean he was still deciding if he should lie or not.”

“Hush.” Bofur growled, a false smile plastered on his face. “Not here.” Thorin was entering, Bella at his side, and flanked by the rest of the Heroes who came to join the trio at the front of the crowd, creating a space between the dais and the rest of the court. The two monarchs stood in front of the joint throne, and the Arkenstone seemed to leap to life, shining far brighter than it should have in the light before quieting as Thorin spoke.

“My friends, your patience these last days will be rewarded.” The King had three stalks of lavender pinned over his heart, and Bella was adorned with more jewels than any had seen her with before. Her new robes of green were of purest silk, but cut low to show she had her coat of mithril. She wore the emerald boars Dáin had gifted her, a delicate necklace that was worked with elvish writing and had a faint glow even now, and embroidery on her sleeves in the shape of raven's wings. She must have gone straight to the weavers and made them work long into the night. Thorin wore furs over his robe of blue brocade, the hilt of Orcrist over his shoulder his only ornamentation. He was acting as foil today, instead of drawing the eye, and Dwalin tried to cover his frown of speculation.

They did nothing without purpose, and while some of it escaped him, Dwalin need only look to his brother to see the approval in his eyes to know both monarchs had succeeded. Thorin folded his hands at his waist and continued to speak. "This day is a dark one. After finding proof that Narvi son of Nar and the unnamed spy he harbored planned to steal the Arkenstone and kill those guarding it, I ordered his execution last night. My Queen agreed with my sentence and we signed the order together, for it was she who took the greatest risk in uncovering the plot against me and mine."

Thorin sat and she stayed standing at the edge of the dais. Dwalin caught his breath at the sight as she waited for silence. Thorin was spreading lessons in all directions. She held herself upright, hands at her waist, eyes sweeping over the crowd.

"The execution has already occurred. Traitors receive no tombs, no funerals, and they will be judged by the Maker in his halls." Always look to the eyes. The faces of the Court were blank, but their eyes were assessing their tiny queen as she stood in front of her throne, hands clasped and voice calm. And there was doubt. It was one thing to have a hobbit supporting the king, but all knew it was her enmity with Narvi that had led to this. Narvi had been one of them, from and old and powerful family, and this outsider had put him under the axe. Dwalin caught Sognir's eye and held his gaze until the noble looked away, face pale and smooth. "He was sabotaging our iron with help from an Ironfist alchemist. We have the proof, should any of you wish to examine it, and his signed confession." The ripples of shock her words caused lifted much of the tension, and Dwalin took a deep breath as Sognir faded towards the back of the crowd. The disgraced noble was nearly at the entrance when Nori materialized out of the rock, hand closing on the fleeing dwarf's elbow. Bella finished the list of charges and Thorin stood, coming to stand at her side. The Arkenstone stayed quiet, though Dwalin was sure the stone was watching over the Queen even now.

"The threat to the Queen he represented is over. To say I am displeased with the aspersions cast at the mother of my child would ignore my fury that such filthy lies were listened to by some I considered allies. To utter the traitor's name in my presence will be to earn his punishment in turn. I thought we might have continuity in our reclaimed kingdom, but do not forget I allowed you to keep your titles as a courtesy, and that the coffers of Erebor refilled your own. Coffers that were only available by the generosity and courage of my Belladonna. It seems in honoring our history, I did not give the Company their proper status. No more ambiguity. The dwarves you know as the Heroes risked everything, and outrank the rest of the Court in authority. The Queen, who gave up her home to help a people not her own and saved the lives of us all multiple times is to be obeyed. Even before she agreed to marry me, I knew I would make her Queen of Erebor. From now on, the oaths you gave us in our most sacred tongue will be enforced. The name of Erebor will once again carry respect and power but only after long years of sacrifice by her dwarves. There needs to be an understanding between throne and court now that the traitor has been removed. If we can all agree Erebor is our focus, regardless of personal gain, I believe we might yet achieve greatness."

Dwalin held his breath, watching the eyes flicker from concerned to hopeful, shoulders squaring and stances shifting. Maybe Bofur was right. Narvi had been a rotting beam, and his removal meant they could heal together. Thorin sat, taking Bella's hand in his and pressing his lips to her fingers. "Now, I believe we were going to discuss the delegation to the Orocarni."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I split this chapter I never dreamed the second half would take this long. But now the second arc I've been working on can finally move forward. Thank you all for reading.


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ravens of Erebor bring news to the rulers of Arda. Bella's words create change across the land.

Bells rang out in the crisp spring air and echoed out against the valley, creating harmonies that faded into birdsong as the sun touched the scorched stones of Dale. Most of the people were out on the cool streets, setting up their stalls on the main square to greet traders from distant lands. Dwarves moved among the throng, greeting their neighbors and making deliveries from the forges. A large raven circled overhead and came to roost on the highest tower, flaring her wings before disappearing into the roost.

Bard glanced up from his desk as Gunna entered, braids wrapped around her head and hands full of paper, her customary smile gone. “Morning, my love.”

“Bella sent you a letter.” She came to his side and set down a silver tube covered in engravings, Bella's sigil on the lid.

“Really?” He had never been sent one of these before. He found the envelopes the hobbits used charming, and wondered at the change.

“By raven, not one of the normal messengers.”

“I suppose I should read it.” Bard stifled his grin at his wife's tisk, and flipped the dagger from the sheath up his sleeve to break the familiar seal of green wax. He skimmed the first line, cursed, and read it again, paying attention to each word. Gunna rounded the desk and put her hand on his shoulder, reading with him as he reached up to tangle his fingers with hers.

“By the Valar.” She whispered after several silent moments, and Bard dropped the paper to his desk. His hip ached and for the first time in years he felt his age.

“What a tale.”

“She must be terrified. No wonder it's been a while since I've heard from her.” Gunna sat with a frown, work forgotten at her side. “I've seen no reports of dwarves moving near the walls.”

“They would have gone north or west.” Bard stared out the window, but could only see fleeing shadows in the dark. “And if there were no collaborators among our people I'll dive for Smaug's armor.” Gunna made a warding sign towards Erebor, the habit of long years spent in fear, lowering her hand without completing the ritual.

“He is dead and their plans have been stymied for now. We will watch for them now without betraying our knowledge.”

“Wise counsel, my Queen.”

“If I am Queen then my husband wears a crown.” Gunna raised her eyebrow, but her voice was teasing. Bard leaned back in his chair, grateful for the change in subject even if it was an old argument now.

“Dale needs roofs and trade before she needs a coronation.”

“Your son and daughter have their titles and are welcome in Rohan and Gondor because trade with Dale means trade with Erebor, and a marriage alliance means wealth.”

“This is a new tack.” Bard pulled Gunna to his lap and kissed his tiny wife, smoothing away her protests until she pinned him to his chair and left him yearning for more when she stood. “Which one approached you?”

“Queen Théodes wrote me that Bain has become most popular with the young men and women of her court. Her own son serves Ecthelion in Gondor and has taken a bride from their people. She implies ties to Rohan would serve both our kingdoms.”

“And Sigrid?”

“She serves the Lady Erdanel well, but she writes none of the young men appeal to her. I think she left her heart here.” Gunna glanced towards Erebor. “But I'm afraid the one she wants isn't available.”

“Already married? I had no idea anyone had caught her interest.”

“She didn't want me to know either, but Tilda gave it away.” Gunna sighed and kissed Bard, her touch soft. “I should not have spoken. The thought of such traitors among us loosened my tongue.”

“If my daughter's happiness is at stake, my sweet, you should tell me.”

“I don't know who. Tilda managed to hold the name back and I want Sigrid to tell me when she is ready.”

“If being a princess would help her...”

“She will let us know in time. Perhaps a coronation would bring her back.”

“Sigrid asked to leave. I would not wish to break her heart anew if she finds solace being away from home. Write her, my love. See if she will let her parents help her in this. If not, I will not drag her back for anything.”

“You are a good father, Bard.” Gunna kissed his temple, and the leaders of Dale turned their concern back to their kingdom, but song did not fall from Gunna's lips, and Bard felt the weight of Sigrid's quiet retreat. He would make his eldest smile again.

 

 

The valley of Rivendell shimmered in the dwindling light, the waterfalls catching the last rays of the sun. Elrond heard a rough croak as he passed under a quivering birch tree and glanced up, seeing a raven alighting on a branch. “Greetings, Raka.” She spread her wings and threw back her head, croaking again before landing on closer branch.

“Lord Elrond. My queen has sent you a letter and a warning. She was afraid to write it down.”

“Tell me.” The news was grave and the implications worse. He had not foreseen this threat, but he could not blame himself. He was focused years away and in distant lands, and had to trust to dwarfish steel and the resilience of hobbits. “Come with me, if you will. I offer you the hospitality of Rivendell as long as you wish it.” Raka bobbed her head and followed him to the open rooms overlooking the waterfalls, where even elvish hearing could not spy upon him.

He sent Lindir off with summons for Elladan and Elrohir, the twins, and wished that Arwen could lend her counsel, but her visit to her grandmother was continuing. His foster son was still too young for the news from the East. Raka waited on the back of his chair, preening her feathers and falling on the offered basin of water with a croak of thanks. “A long journey you chose.”

“Almost the longest. I have heard stories of this valley from my queen and she offered me a chance to visit you.”

“We are always grateful for news from her.” Belladonna...his Belladonna, the Queen's mother, would have laughed had she known the fate of her child. Elrond wished she could have visited one more time, but a married hobbit wandering outside the Shire would have caused too much talk. He would have liked to see young Bella before she had lost her parents, before whatever had so broken her _fae_ that he had been horrified into thinking his old friend had appeared before him.

“Ada?”

“Elrohir. This is Raka, daughter of Roäc, from Erebor.”

“Erebor!” Elrohir bowed low and took a seat at the table. “I marvel at the miracle wrought there. I would have given much to fight Azog and Bolg alongside your King.”

“Gundabad welcomes dwarvish steel before long.” Raka threw her head back. “I hope Thorin is able to send me north. I would fight against them as long as my wings hold me.”

“Gundabad?” Elladan entered, his sword in hand, and laughed. “I would gladly clear Aulë's mountain with the dwarves.” Elrond looked at his sons, saw the desire for revenge burning as strong as it ever had, but shook his head.

“Neither of you are going north yet. At least, not on that side of the Misty Mountains. The Dúnedain need your help until Estel claims his heritage.”

“And leave Belladonna alone?”

“She is not alone. May I tell them all you imparted to me, Raka?”

“I trust your fledglings.” Both sons grinned at being called so by the young bird and settled down, seeming to acquire their father's fears as he shared the news of disaster averted and the political crisis that confronted Thorin. Elladan responded first, taking the lead from the quieter Elrohir.

“And you say she does not need us? I remember when she was here, Ada. That she was able to continue walking after suffering such hurts amazed me.”

“And elvish guards, when Thranduil offered them insult, would weaken her and Thorin.”

“Thranduil is no kin to us,” scoffed Elladan, “and I would still say the same if he were.”

“He came to Dagorlad and lost his father there. Is this such a time that we must resurrect the ancient feuds? He is elf kin and without him as a bulwark, the hordes you speak so lightly of could have made it to Goblin Town and launched assault on this very valley.”

“You scoured Dol Guldur with grandmother and severed that threat that he refused to face. He's on the defensive always, and that is why he rules over Mirkwood and not the Greenwood. If we do not take action the fate you so fear for the elves will come to pass.” Elladan put his fists on the table, staring at Elrond with flashing eyes. “At least the dwarves gird themselves for war. If we truly supported the freedom of Arda, we would send them a host.” His other son shifted, a frown creasing his brow, and Elrond turned his attention from Elladan.

“Elrohir?”

“We sit in uncertain times. I do not claim your foresight, Ada, but I have the same gifts and I see nothing but trouble and pain in the decades to come. If we have the ability to help lessen some of that, I think we should offer Erebor something. Even if all Thorin needs is counsel, he should be able to find it from some of the elves. We are fortunate Thranduil's paranoia did not succeed and keep the dwarves imprisoned indefinitely. Else we would have a fire drake threatening all of the East.”

“Raka, how close is this war you speak of?”

“With Narvi killed and the Ironfist renegades gone, Thorin can move openly. He's already sent one battalion north, but I fear they have not the numbers to get close to the mountain itself. The Iron Hills will send warriors, and I've heard the Orocarni might be interested in joining the campaign. My ravens fly to all the dwarves and many seem interested. Gundabad is the only unifying symbol left to them.”

“Well said. I will write her and make the offer. But you two are to stay here and see to Estel's training. I've seen him in Gondor in not so many years and he must stay alive if that fate you so fear will be averted.” His sons bent their dark heads in supplication, and Elrond rose, offering his arm to Raka. “Come to my study and be out guest at the table tonight. I fear your trip back to the Lonely Mountain must come faster than you wished.”

“If it keeps my queen safe I will fly into the teeth of any gale the sky throws at me.” She ruffled her feathers and hopped onto Elrond's proffered perch, her claws gentler than he had thought. He hastened his steps and began writing the moment he sat, losing himself in trying to grasp the uncertain future, the shapes dim and half hidden in shadows.

 

 

Across the Long Lake, where the ruins of Esgaroth still marred the still surface, Mirkwood rustled in the soft breezes from the North. To the sharp eyes of the spiraling raven, the once dark forest had changed, with new growth along the edges of the water and sparrows hunting for bugs, filling the air with life. The high gates had new vines growing along the support pillars, but underneath the larger trees, there were shadows. Karlin could smell the rot when the breeze slowed. Clacking her beak, she went to the rookery and dropped her message tube down the appropriate chute, and took to the air as fast as she could.

Thranduil looked up as Tauriel entered the throne room, holding something silver in her hand. “News from Erebor, my Lord.”

“How expected.” Belladonna at least could write an interesting letter, even if her words burned. He had grown to enjoy their sparring over these last months. His captain bowed and turned to leave, but her eyes were tight and her fist was clenched. “Was there anything else?” She drew a long breath and stayed facing the far wall.

“Prince Kíli sent me a note asking if I might visit soon. I was going to say my duty is here, my Lord.”

“Patrols can be led by others. Between Beorn and the flight of the Necromancer, the woods are safer than ever before. And maintaining friendship between our kingdoms is important.”

“If you can spare me for a week I would like to see what the weapon smiths have to offer. Many of us need new swords.”

“A fine plan. Write him back and wait for my reply.” Thranduil watched her flee and sighed. He had nothing but suspicion that she had aided his prisoners in their flight, and Belladonna's role as burglar did give his captain some shield, but he had heard her and this Kíli speaking throughout the weeks of their imprisonment. He needed someone he could trust, and the sooner she left for Erebor the better. Let Thorin have a court of hobbits and elves. The Greenwood would remain apart and safe. Alone, he broke the green wax on the message tube and scanned the soft handwriting, and sat still for long minutes after. What a tale. Executed spies, sabotage, even a jewel heist. It read like something from the First Age. The dwarves of Erebor had returned to their old ways with remarkable speed.

“Ada?”

“Legolas. When did you last hear from Mithrandir?”

“Not since the battle of Erebor.”

“I need you to find him and give him this.” Thranduil gave his son the message and was pleased to see little reaction.

“A frightening tale.”

“I suppose. See what we have gained? Only more dangerous neighbors, with better armor.”

“Smaug's death was a blow against all evil in this world. I am glad we have dwarves in Erebor once more.” Legolas adjusted his quiver and put the parchment back in the silver tube. “Do you have any word to Mithradir's location?”

“Start with Radagast. I would guess he has gone south towards Gondor but he moves quickly.”

“As my King commands.” Legolas bowed and left, leaving a quiet father behind. Good. With a new focus, his son could forget the thrill of battle, the lure of adventure that Erebor had become. And he could keep his kingdom safe.

 

 

Galadrial stood at the window of her _talan_ , staring out over the golden boughs of her home unseeing. She listened to the air whisper of snow on the Misty Mountains, tasted the cool berries that ripened on the slopes, but the taint of Moria shook her from her silent meditation and she withdrew back to the present and found one of her ladies standing nearby with a messenger tube in her hand.

“From Erebor, my Lady.”

“A raven? I thought I tasted the north.” She took the scroll and shuddered. “Bad news. Where is my lord Celeborn?”

“He and Arwen are among the books.”

“Good. Both should hear this.” Galadriel descended from her _talan_ and paused under the mallyrn, taking a moment to see the golden flowers before crossing the soft ground towards a stand of smaller trees where the scholars had their rooms. Arwen had taken a great liking to the library where some books of the Noldor resided, and she and her grandfather had taken to spending days at a time relearning the history of her mother's people. Arwen glanced up from her journal and set aside her quill, standing to greet her grandmother. Celeborn folded his hands across his desk and waited, saying nothing as Galadriel kissed Arwen's brow and sat with her on the chairs overlooking the edge of Caras Galadhon towards Moria.

“I received news from Belladonna Baggins. She writes of a great danger uncovered and a possible threat to us.” Galadriel unrolled the scroll and read them the short letter, letting it convey the hobbit's palpable fear and resolve.

“No dwarf would willingly enter these lands.” Arwen shook her long hair back from her face and Galadriel had never seen her departed daughter so close to the flesh. It took her breath away and she closed her eyes against the vision from the past.

“Orcs still try. A renegade might as well. Celeborn, if you could send word to the outermost posts?”

“At once, my love.” Arwen watched her grandfather go with a calm face, but Galadriel saw the turmoil this news had created in her, the tightened lips and distant gaze.

“Do you fear what Belladonna wrote?”

“I rejoiced when Smaug was ousted and Bolg and Azog were slain. But I had hoped for a happier ending for Belladonna. My father told me some of her and her letters are unfailingly kind.”

“She has found lasting happiness with the dwarves. You need not fear that. I have seen glimpses of a queen for the ages, but while we live there is no certainty, and no ending. We may have defeated the Necromancer and a dragon, but there are other evils abroad. Its one reason I wanted you here for a time.”

“I love it here.” Arwen reached out to caress one of the silver branches coming through the floor of the _talan_. “And I wish I could bring the peace of this place to others.”

“You may get that wish, granddaughter mine. What have you read today?”

“I found a history of the rebellion from a clerk of Gil-galad's. I think it was written after the fall of Numenor, but there is no date given.”

“And what do you think?” They had never spoken of the exile and the events preceding. Galadriel waited for condemnation, but only received a thoughtful glance from gentle eyes.

“I think I would have made the same decision if pressed to it. Those were difficult times.”

“More are to come, but the more you understand the deceit and fury of our enemy, the stronger you will be. I will not leave until I know for certain our victory is complete. I do not judge those who flee to the Valar, but I do not have that sanctuary you might claim. My choice is made.”

“As is mine. I will stay at your side, grandmother, and let my father say what he will. The legacy of the Noldor will be one of lasting peace.” The two elves sat and spoke of the shadow they feared, and Bella's letter sat next to them, a potent reminder that the struggle of the Ages took many forms.

 

 

“Raven on the wing!” A gong sounded below and Siduri turned her telescope back to the skies. A raven of Erebor, for certain. Outside of the normal arrival, which meant royal messages and Longbeard intrigue. If Dáin and Thorin could be moved from their mountains to war, the hunting could be greater than anything to the south. She had heard many tales of the solitary peak in the last year. It would be the adventure of a lifetime to travel west and visit the legendary Longbeard Court, see the lost gem twinkle above the duel throne of Belladonna and Thorin. The children knew how long a bird, once spotted, would make the last leg of the journey and Siduri turned to receive the tray of food from the runner in robes of gold cloth.

“Stay outside for now. This is royal mail.”

“Aye.” Moments later, the dusty raven perched on the golden pole and hopped inside.

“Message for your King.”

“Verbal or written?”

“Both.”

“I have an escort waiting.”

“No. You take me. I was told to see as few as possible.” Siduri hesitated a moment, but nodded.

“Eat and bathe while I summon a replacement, please.” Another gong message was sent and Siduri waited, saying nothing. This was far above her and she wished she could have passed off this imperious bird, but a royal messenger was a royal messenger no matter their species. When the raven was ready, they accepted Siduri's shoulder as a roost and the moment another scout arrived Siduri began to the long trek down the winding staircase to the main hall, and the raven cleared a path more effectively than a dozen soldiers. The bird cocked their head from side to side. Siduri relented and swallowed her fear. This was a guest.

“Is this your first visit to the East?”

“Aye. A long journey, but my Queen wanted this news delivered as fast as possible. This place is bigger than I thought.”

“As big as Erebor?”

“Bigger. And undamaged.” They traveled through room and room, under carved murals and statues of Blacklock and Stonefoot rulers from ages past. The raven clacked their beak a few times as the rooms grew in scale and gilt until the great throne room doors were before them, and the tupsharru was rushing forward to stop her. Siduri knelt, taking care her passenger stayed at eye level with the official, and waited. The moment the raven was spotted, the official's face relaxed and he nodded.

“A Longbeard raven is always welcome here.”

“I need to see your King.”

“Of course. Scout, you may...”

“She has fed and watered me, and I like her gait.” The tupsharru stiffened, but after a long moment nodded.

“As you wish.”

“Tell your king I am Carc, son of Raka.” Siduri got back to her feet and held her breath as the doors to the throne room opened on silent hinges and two guards flanked her into the room of gold. Enmul and Maskim sat side by side, the King with his unsheathed sword and his husband with a spear slanted across his lap. Siduri went to the bottom of the stairs, bowed, and waited.

“Thank you for your quick steps, Siduri.” She forgot herself and stared up at the King, heart racing at the leap to personal names without the preamble of ceremony, but another quick glance side to side showed her a cleared Court and realized he could afford to dispense with ceremony with no nobles to appease. “Carc, you bear a famous name.”

“My great grandfather taught me of your halls. I have news.” Siduri winced but was treated to the reveal of traitors and executions, doing her best to forget, but the tale was a harrowing one. Maskim rapped the butt of his spear on the ground a few times during the tale, shaking his head and glancing at his husband, but the King remained as a statue until the raven finished and fell silent.

“May I see the letter she wrote?” Carc flew up to the throne and Enmul untied the message, reading with the same mask he wore whenever outsiders were present. “Husband, tell me your thoughts.” Maskim grunted before straightening his shoulders.

“Scheming Ironfists collaborate with enemies on every side. I told you we would fight them eventually.”

“It is not the whole clan. Belladonna names them renegades and I believe her.”

“We need Erebor's steel more than we need raw minerals. Their converters are the best in the world.” Maskim stared out at the mural depicting the kingdoms of the dwarves, focusing on the distinctive peak of the Lonely Mountain and drawing Siduri's attention to the small detail of a caravan winding down a stylized road.

“Aye, they are.” Enmul swung his sword and Siduri saw it was new, made in a strange style with curving blade and straight pommel. It looked beautiful and her fingers itched for the weapon. “Thank you, Carc. Siduri, you have heard royal words. What would you say?”

“I have longed to see Erebor since we heard of the liberation. Longbeard pride is tolerable when they send us such gifts.”

“You see, husband? My people share your feeling. Siduri, I would send you on the next caravan if you wish it.” His fingers flickered and she read the offer to be his eyes and ears in the court of Thorin, to tell him of any dangers coming from the west. So this was how one's life changed in the blink of an eye.

“I would be honored.”

“Carc, I send you back sooner with my own words. Let them know Siduri is coming. I know she will enjoy trying to find a sword as stupendous as mine.” Siduri bowed again to hide her joy. Erebor's difficulties would soon be hers.

 

 

The raven spiraled down onto the thatched roof of Meduseld and preened, looking out over the rolling grasslands he had crossed. Good hunting ground. Even here the horses could be heard, from stables and from the paddocks inside the walls. Watching the ground below, Rán waited until only the guards were on the spacious veranda, and flew down to land at their feet. Both men drew their swords, but lowered them as the raven stayed still and watched them out of one eye. “Message for your King from Erebor.”

“I'll never get used to this.” One man muttered, but the other opened the door to the great hall.

“Anmédla, let Bain know a raven from Erebor has arrived.”

“At once, Elkebrand.” Rán fluttered up to a carved horse-head, bringing him to eye level with the guards. Both shifted from foot to foot, hands tight on their spears. Rán spread his wings and watched them flinch before settling down and preening his wings. The door opened and young Bain emerged, bowing over his heart and smiling.

“Greetings, messenger of Erebor. Bain, son of Bard at your service.”

“Rán son of Raka at yours, Prince. I bring news from the Queen for the leader of this rookery, a letter from your father for you and another from King Thorin for the king.”

“More news than we've ever received from the Lonely Mountain. Elkebrand, do I have permission to escort our guest to the King?”

“Aye, best not delay the royal messages.” One of the great doors was thrown open and Rán fluttered inside after Bain, going up into the eaves and gliding from carved horse to horse head, until more doors were reached and other humans consulted. Bain had changed, from a scrawny chick to a full-shouldered man, since Rán had last seen the lad. He was certain Queen Gunna would ask after her son. Once in the throne room, Rán flew in and lighted on the lower step at the King's booted feet and bowed as Bain explained the errand. The King stayed silent for a long time, enough for the raven to grow impatient, but finally gave orders to clear the room. Warriors and courtiers left with quick steps, obeying with enough speed to close on discourtesy. Rán had been told this King was not popular with his subjects and saw the truth of Bella's counsel. Bain took his letter and left, handing the King the scroll with Thorin's seal in blue wax.

“And what would the Queen wish to tell me and not trust to paper?” He had a soft accent, but his voice was harsh and Rán knew this was a man who would order a messenger killed if he was displeased. Tensing in case the man found fault with his words, Rán related news of Ironfist renegades and the execution of Narvi, and Bella's warning to the Horse Lords. Thengel said nothing until he had read Thorin's letter twice, and set it aside with a pursed mouth.

“Dwarves find little value in this pasture land, but we will keep an eye north. If Gundabad becomes a problem our horses find their way into Orc cooking pots often enough. Tell your King to send his ambassador here with the trade treaty and I may find a way to lend him warriors.” Rán bobbed his head and waited to see if this was a man of manners and couth, or just another who saw those with feathers as beneath notice. “Bain will attend to your needs. I am sure he wants to write a letter to his parents, and I may have a note for your Queen. We feast this eve and I would extend the shelter of my roof to you until you have strength for the return.”

“My thanks, Majesty.”

“One more thing, Rán. Do you have dealings with Bain's father?”

“I have spoken with King Bard on occasion. He speaks our tongue.”

“He is old?”

“As Men count the years he is well into his middle years.”

“So Bain might take his father's place in a few years?”

“I believe that is the way of Dale.”

“Good.” The King actually walked to the doors and escorted Rán to the hallway, where Bain sat outside reading his letter with a frown. “Young Bain, see to our messenger and attend us at table tonight.”

“Your Majesty.” Bain bowed until the doors closed, and beckoned the bemused raven away from the throne room. “The kitchens are this way. I think they slaughtered one of the pigs this morning so there should be fresh meat.”

“It's too flat here. When are you coming home?”

“Mother writes I am to stay at least another year. Besides, Anmédla...there are those here I don't want to leave yet.” The boy's cheeks were covered in light down, but Rán thought the chick was embarrassed.

“Fly while you can. Soon enough you'll take your place as leader of the nests.”

“My father...” Bain did color this time. “He will be King for a long time!” Rán fluttered his wings in apology. He had seen the grey in Bard's hair, the deepening of wrinkles. Such things turned Men into elders, and elders went to the grave before long. But if Bain wished to turn away from the truth it wasn't Rán's place to correct him. “Come on. Let's get to the kitchen. Away from prying ears and you can tell me about home.”

“As you wish.” Bain led the way, and Rán enjoyed his time with the deferential cooks and servants of Meduseld, but the raven did not forget what he had seen. Erebor needed to be ready.

 

 

Far away from the chilly plains of Rohan, the green hills of the Shire were blooming with life. The groves on the far hills sent their gentle scents towards the hill where Bag End perched over Hobbiton. The much envied and admired master of the smial looked around the front hall of Bag End, hands on his hips and head cocked the side, examining his work. “Hmmm.” Judgment passed, he turned to go start his tea, the cold chicken sandwich that Bell Gamgee had dropped off yesterday occupying his thoughts, when a quiet knock interrupted his progress. “Hello, young Billie! Doing your messenger rounds?”

“Aye, mister Drogo, and this is a strange one. Addressed proper, but no stamp and...well, it came by a big black bird last night to the Green Dragon.” The lad stuttered over the description of the raven, but Drogo knew where the mysterious bird had originated and waved the boy to silence. These messengers could all be rather single minded.

“I'll pay you for the stamps. Thank you.” Shilling in hand, Billie hesitated but Drogo closed the door before he took a closer look at the heavy envelope that had evidence of being rolled and a few weather stains, but his aunt's clear handwriting was unmistakable. He still wasn't sure how he felt being master of Bag End, part of him always waiting for Bella's return, but the last two years had been good to him. 

 _My dearest Drogo. May this letter find you and darling Prim well. Your last letter hinted you were about to propose but I won't offer congratulations until you tell me you are her husband._  

The letter went on about her daughter and her family, and Drogo went to sit as he lit his pipe, happy to learn his new cousins were treating his aunt with honor. He missed their talks, his visits here with Prim under a kind eye, but he did not wish Bella had stayed.

_We have faced some trouble from another clan of dwarves. Thorin has instructed his dwarves from the Blue Mountains to keep an eye on the borders of the Shire, and there are some honorable Men who do the same, but your name may put you in danger. Stay vigilant, and keep Primula safe._

_All my love,_

_Bella Baggins of Erebor_  

“Goodness me.” Drogo glanced over the fireplace where an old sword hung, still sharp but long unused. It had been a gift from old Isengrim, the short ruled Thain, and Drogo had wondered if the sword had been meant for Bella instead and the old hobbit had been confused. He wouldn't wear it, but he would keep it sharp, and perhaps start keeping a dagger about his belt.

 

 

Far to the south, Gondor was quiet in the grey light, waiting for the warming rays of the sun. Sigrid stood out on the balcony that covered a wicket gate, seeing how one archer could hold off an army and shivered. This city, for all the beauty and grace of the surface, was a killing field waiting for any unwise enough to attack. She cast her eyes to the mountain from which the city grew and found comfort in the timeless peak, white with snow even now. She missed the Lonely Mountain, but the strength of the mountain ranges that converged here was overwhelming. These stolen moments of solitude were few and far between in a Court she hoped would never take hold in Dale. The ceremony and status could be stupefying. Closing her eyes against painful memories, Sigrid leapt when a harsh croak overhead echoed over the silent streets. “Raka?”

“Rutna, daughter of Carrick.”

“Sigrid, daughter of Gunna at your service.”

“I have two messages. One for your hand and the other for the Steward.” The raven hopped closer and Sigrid bobbed her head. She had missed the messengers of Erebor, but now that she saw the royal sigil her heart felt heavy. Such speed and secrecy did not inspire confidence in the words within.

“I will go at once. He will be at the table with his soldiers.”

“I must speak to him.” One message roll, engraved with a familiar seal, was directed into her hand, but Sigrid slipped it into the pouch at her belt unopened. She offered her arm but Rutna declined, hopping and fluttering along the corridors from statue to candle sconce until they reached the Steward's public rooms. The two guards slanted their pikes across the door until Sigrid explained the presence of the messenger. One man stayed with as the other went inside to announce her arrival and deliver the second tube, while Rutna flared her wings and croaked, her neck feathers ruffled. Sigrid touched the scroll and breathed through her nose until the sentry returned and nodded her through, the messenger flying overhead and drawing the eyes of the Privy Council. Ecthelion stood and nodded to the raven.

“Greetings, Rutna. Princess Sigrid, since this concerns your home, join us.” Armenel pushed out the chair next to him, and Sigrid joined him, drawing her heavy skirts close to avoid tripping over Denethor to the left. The brothers, close to her own age, had been welcoming but Armenel had spoken to her far more than the elder. Rutna alighted on the table and cocked her head back and forth, staring down several of the councilors, until she smoothed her feathers and began her recitation.

“Steward of Gondor, I bring you this news from my Queen, Belladonna Baggins, Luck Bringer of Erebor.” Sigrid listened with mounting horror. Tilda loved visiting Erebor, especially the markets, and her little sister could have been caught as a hostage by these monsters! Armenel put a comforting hand to her tensed arm and Sigrid realized she was close to bending the soft message tube in her fist. Trembling, she nodded her thanks to the young man and dropped her eyes to the table as Rutna finished her tale.

“We see no dwarves but the traders from Erebor. But if our trading partners wish us to be vigilant, we already guard the borders. Please tell them we stand with them, messenger.”

“Steward.” Rutna bobbed her head.

“Princess, since your kingdom has the closest ties, if you could see to her needs and make sure our message is delivered Gondor would thank you.”

“For Gondor I am pleased to serve.” Sigrid rose at the polite but pointed dismissal, and caught Armenel's eye before she left with Rutna. Getting food and water delivered to her quarters was simple, and the Lady Erdanel was still in her private rooms so Sigrid was able to have a moment of peace as Rutna ate and rested. She held up the message tube. This wasn't from Bella or Thorin. Fíli's sigil was as familiar as her own face in the mirror. Heart pounding, she slipped out the letter and broke the red wax with a sharp turn of her wrists. 

_Princess Sigrid,_

_Forgive the familiarity, but I was unsure how much the Steward would share with you. Saboteurs have been driven from Erebor. Their likely destination is Gundabad or another northern fast, but I would not have you caught unawares. Your presence in Erebor and Dale both has been missed this past year, and I can only hope Gondor recognizes what you bring to them. Rutna will wait until you have a reply, and a raven will arrive monthly from now on if you wish to send word home. I join my aunt and uncle in wishing you happiness._

_Your friend,_

_Fíli, son of Víli_

Sigrid grasped at the thin parchment with weak fingers, tears burning her eyes. _Now_ he wrote? And with strange words, hinting at something but keeping a distance. Did he suspect her, wonder at his role in driving her south? She knew the tales of his conquests better than most and he had not missed her. Nor did he ask her to return. Her thoughts raced. He could fear this message falling into unfriendly hands. Or he felt nothing but the friendship he professed. The story of Thorin and Bella had merely given her too many ideas. Sigrid looked out to Osgilith and dried her eyes, her hands cold but still. She would never return to Dale. Armenel had been paying her more attention, and would be a fine match for a Princess of Dale. It was time to stop dreaming.

 

 

Ravens filled the sky around Erebor, spreading across the whole of Arda. Bella sent her ravens to all who needed to hear the news, and the promise that Erebor was growing stronger, a worthwhile ally in uncertain times. The ripples that spread from black wings beating over the changing land would soon consume them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to tygermama and teapotdragon for helping me with this chapter.


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